Invincible
by Petaldancer
Summary: "Why aren't you dead?" He clenched his fist. "You should have died. You should have lost your very soul!"  Sky-blue met toxic green, life met death. "But I didn't." Arthur stopped. "...You will." There once lived a Sorcerer with immense power... AU USxUK
1. Chapter 1

Hey everyone! Here is my first Hetalia fic!

_Italics are usually thoughts_

**Invincible**

A heathen. A monster. A sinner. Satan. The devil himself, incarnated into a young boy with dirty blond hair, caterpillar-like eyebrows, and the most captivating poison green eyes;

Arthur of No-Name

It has been said that when Arthur was born into the village of Sinistra, his parents had gone deaf merely from a giggle of his demonic voice. When he cried, small earthquakes would shatter the very earth beneath the citizens' feet; his cries would tumble trees, and leave deep ravines that people said reached towards hell.

His eyes were the worst though.

If the citizens dared to spot his absinthe-colored eyes, they were left entranced, mindless, and nothing could break that trance for it was as if their very souls had been stolen from their bodies; left to drown in his eyes.

They had tried to kill him. Oh how they tried.

Better kill _it_ while it's still a baby, a child, a youngling.

But each time someone tried, a disaster would befall him or her.

They would perhaps trip and fall down a cliff to their deaths the day before their plot.

They would perhaps go insane right on the spot and commit suicide.

Even when they tried to abandon him in the woods, he would appear beside them in the next moment, his eyes piercing them with an eerie, vacant stare.

So they let him be, they ignored his existence, they ran away when possible.

No one could mistreat him for fear of punishment, so instead they gave him his own hut to live in at age 5, set far into the confines of the forest, in hopes that eventually he would be slaughtered by the magical beasts that lived within.

They muttered to each other as they passed the boundaries of the forest.

_Evil_...

* * *

In the Capitol City, Dextris, the sun poured from the sky, a heat wave pounding down on the citizens below.

In the castle specifically, servants scurried about taking care of their daily duties. Maids took to cleaning the guest rooms or hanging the newly washed laundry on the

lines to dry in the hot air. Everyone was busy with their chores; some of them humming tunes under their breaths.

A little boy in particular, was shirking his duties. Sneaking out from under the clothed table, he ran out to the training grounds, eager to see if another fight was going on. Maybe he could learn some of their cool moves by watching.

He was shocked, however, to see that the normally cleared patch of earth and dust that made up the grounds was a total mess. Some of the trees that lined the training ground seemed to be in a horrible state, a couple trunks splinted.

Training equipment was scattered on the earth, branches and splinters littering the ground, bits of earth and boulders were upturned, and the boy spotted two figures rushing at each other.

The blond sent a swift kick to his albino mentor's head, but missed when the man ducked and tripped him.

Dirt flew into a dusty cloud and momentarily blinded Gilbert from Alfred's figure.

The glint of a silver dagger thrown from the cloud had Gilbert cursing and dodging to the side, his feet sliding on the dry earth.

"Damn Alfred!"

He flipped towards the abandoned dagger and twirling it momentarily around a finger, he charged into the dust.

There came the sound of metal versus metal.

The shadows of figures danced, accompanied by a few choice swearwords.

Alfred, eyes closed to avoid the dust, parried his stab and knocked his teacher's hand away. He was fully capable of combat without seeing, trained from his childhood to use his sense of hearing to overcome blindness.

Scowling, Gilbert, his eyes also closed, swung the dagger back down towards Alfred, the dust swirling from their quick movements. It nicked the blond on the shoulder, but he ignored it, ducking and kicking his teacher's stomach.

"Oof!"

In Gilbert's vulnerability, the blonde made to slash at his chest, his dagger about to impale the albino—but he hesitated.

A gloved hand charged with electricity was thrust into his face.

He jumped back and out of the dust cloud nearly avoiding the volts in Gilbert's gloves.

The blonds' eyes narrowed as Gilbert brought a crackling hand forth, smirking.

"Cheater!" Alfred shouted, narrowing his eyes.

The student then clenched his gloved fist and jumping up to gain momentum, cracked his fist into the earth. There was a loud rumble, as the ground was sent crumbling and cracking under his power. The earth suddenly launched Gilbert high into the sky, but he controlled his fall and grabbed onto a nearby branch, swinging himself up. Dirt was raining onto the ground, dust clouds roaming once again.

Gilbert cackled, "Why did you hesitate Alfred? Afraid you couldn't beat the awesome me?"

The blonde laughed loudly and shouted, "Because I'm a HERO! And heroes don't hurt their friends!" His face opened to his infamous grin and his sky-blue eyes shone with excitement.

_Friend?_

The albino smirked at Alfred's cocky assertion and jumped down from the tree, aiming a punch at his disrespecting student.

"More like you're a coward!"

* * *

_BOOM_

The loud, insane laughs of one Alfred and one Gilbert resonated through the open window.

Roderich sighed, his brow twitching in what was an aborted eye roll.

The two idiots were at it again.

It really was good fortune, however, that he could send the blond "hero" on a mission. He might get some peace and quiet after all.

He smiled at the thought, looking out the window to the merciless sun and then saw the rise of dust coming from the training grounds.

Roderich's smile turned into a frown immediately.

He placed down his cup of tea, bore his aristocrat eyes into the piles of paper that were unsigned, and then stood up, meticulously brushing imaginary dirt off his clothes. He proceeded to walk from his freakishly organized office and down the hallway.

_Now to get to the throne room…_

The area of the castle he was in was specifically for the royal court and their advisors. Being one of the head advisors, he had the luxury of his own office, quarters, and servants always did his bidding.

He strode down the halls. Paintings of the King and Queen decorated the walls, and expensive rugs were hung next to them, showing off exuberant wealth.

_Not like the rugs were necessary,_ Roderich thought to himself.

He passed a few maids whom were dusting the vases on display and smiled to them, they blushed and fidgeted nervously as he walked past.

His smile disappeared the moment he walked past, however, slowly realizing that this was not the right way to the throne room. Frowning like his aristocrat background demanded, he turned back and saw that the maids had moved on to clean a different spot and were no longer in the hallway.

He cursed in his head (because he would never say it out loud), and then decided that he might as well just walk forward. Passing by some unfamiliar art piece, he tried to maintain his composure and deny the fact that he was once again hopelessly lost. Even though he had been Head Advisor for four years. Curse this defected sense of direction!

The hallways were lit from the sunlight that poured in from the windows.

_I must be in the outer boundaries of the castle_…

Tall, extravagant arches opened to the outside air and gradually Roderich recognized that he was close to the training grounds. He cursed to himself for walking around in a very large circle in the castle when he realized that the training grounds were extremely close to his office. Padding down the marble halls, he carefully lifted his dark blue robes so that they would not brush the stairway as he climbed down.

He closed his gray eyes and breathed in the hot air.

As he continued down the hall, he came across a young servant standing in front of a doorway, eyes wide and his jaw slack.

Roderich, curious, examined the boy. His hair was a messy, dirty blond; he had strangely thick eyebrows, and dark blue eyes.

The Head Advisor cleared his throat to get the boy's attention.

The servant jumped, his eyes still wide as he stared at the respected aristocrat.

"S-sir!"

"Hm, what could be so interesting as to skirt around your duties Mr…?"

"Peter of Arita!" He exclaimed, overly enthusiastic. But then quieted down when he realized who he was shouting to. Red dusted his cheeks and he fidgeted as the advisor stared down at him.

Roderich did nothing but give the boy a small smile and Peter relaxed.

"Now what was it that you were staring at Peter?"

The boy's eyes shone in awe and he quickly turned around and pointed out the open door.

"Look!"

The advisor spotted the completely wrecked training ground, and then quickly assessed the two Royal Guards, Alfred and Gilbert, still fighting savagely; both sporting insane grins as they parried each other's blocks with their favorite weapons.

Gilbert was holding his sword expertly, swinging up in a wide arc, and was quickly blocked by Alfred's long daggers.

The blond swiftly danced around the albino, twisting his body so that he was suddenly behind Gilbert. His teacher had expected this, so he immediately ducked and stabbed his sword behind him. Alfred yelped as the sword sliced the side of his thigh, and then quickly stumbled back, panting harshly. Gilbert smirked, brandishing his sword in one hand and summoned his element once again, channeling the electricity through his precious sword. He charged at the blond, and letting out a victorious cackle, swung his weapon towards Alfred.

The blond smirked, and the earth beneath Gilbert suddenly morphed into sand, causing him to lose balance and skid on his face.

The hero let out a shout and cheerfully placed his boot-covered foot onto his mentor's back. "Haha! I finally won! Serves you right!" He gloated happily and ignored Gilbert's muffled comment, "You are definitely unawesome right now."

Roderich looked behind him to see Peter still lingering, his face lit up in determination.

_I'll be like that one day!_ The boy promised himself.

Roderich quickly shooed the boy away from the door and told him to go back to his duties.

As the boy left, the advisor turned his attention back to the two Royal Guards.

He snickered behind his hand at Gilbert's undignified position, and then began to clap, walking out to the grounds.

"Congratulations Alfred, you have finally managed to defeat your 'wonderful' teacher." He could see Gilbert twitch under Alfred's foot at his sarcastic "wonderful."

Alfred let his boot up and offered a hand to his teacher.

As the he took Alfred's hand and got up, Gilbert scowled at Roderich, sending hate through a fiery glare, and then turned back to his student. He smiled proudly at the blond.

Numerous scratches littered Alfred's body, blood flew freely from a cut on his forehead, dripping over an eye and his clothes were torn in several places and dirt covered him from head to toe. But he was wearing a large grin that showed all of his pearly white teeth.

"Good job kid!" He clapped Alfred on his wounded shoulder purposefully, causing the blond to wince. Gilbert then started to walk towards the castle to get cleaned up. He had to tell his brother, Francis, and Antonio the good news!

The reminder of his wounds made Alfred lose his high from winning, and with tired eyes, he noted that Roderich seemed to be waiting for him.

"So what's going on Rody?" The Head Advisor's eye twitched involuntarily, and he had to hold back a scathing retort.

"My name is Roderich, not Rody, not Erich, nor any other ridiculous name you come up with."

"Alright, Rody."

The aristocrat's eye twitched again.

He attempted to calm himself.

"I was about to go to the throne room, and I was passing by when…I happen to notice that you two were making quite a commotion… and so I came to lecture you about the mess you've made of the training grounds." Roderich lied to cover his actual reason for being there.

"Um, but Rody, the throne room is on the other side of the castle-"

"But since I am here, I have a message for you." The advisor blushed lightly and interrupted Alfred

"A message?" the blond piped up, curious.

"Indeed, the Royal Court has a mission for you."

"Really? I accept!"

"You have not even heard what it is yet."

"I'll do it!"

"Alfred—"

"You can count on me!"

"Alfred of—" _Calm Roderich, calm._

"No need to thank me, I am a HERO after all!"

"Alfred of Dextris!"

"Yes Rody?"

The aristocrat pinched his nose, which uprooted his glasses slightly, and breathed as deeply as he possibly could.

"There have been reports of strange happenings in the City of Sinistra. People continue to disappear, and the citizens there are frightened out of their minds. In truth, they have sent many reports of problems to Dextris, however every time we send soldiers over, they report back that the city is prospering and quite normal." The Advisor pushed up his frames, and sighed in slight frustration.

"This will be the last time we cater to Sinistra's whims. Most likely, you will have to do nothing. So think of this as a…rest of sorts."

"Alright! Time for a well-deserved break!" Alfred cheered loudly.

* * *

Pure, simple, white. The walls opened into tall windows, letting sunlight glitter through the arched glass. The stained glass that framed the windows casted series of colors on the beautiful paintings that hung on the walls. The floors were covered in warm, sun-worn lucis wood. The wood came from a Lucis sentient tree that if it took favor upon you, would give some of its precious, pure wood. The wood itself was said to have magical properties, that would bring happiness and good fortune to those who had it in their home; fitting for a church.

Father Feliciano and Father Lovino knelt in front of the altar, clasping their hands together. Their pure white robes brushed the dusty ground, and their heads were bowed down, honey and amber eyes closed.

The gold crosses that hung around their neck glistened in the sun, and the red sashes that fell from their shoulders hovered above the wooden floor.

The guards, which were there to escort them back and forth, did not dare disturb their prayers. They looked on in awe as they began to see the siblings glow a soft white.

"Guards."

A voice echoed from what seemed to be the confines of the walls came from Lovino's mouth. The guards jumped and turned their attention to the older sibling.

"Thank you for your services, now please leave us."

The guards scrambled out of the church quickly, afraid that they would somehow disturb their peace if they did not leave quickly.

As soon as the clunk of the guards' armors were gone, the brothers opened their eyes slowly and stared at each other, knowing what they saw.

Amber met honey, and they could both see the worry and sorrow deep in each other's eyes.

"Ve~Lovino…" Feliciano's eyes started to tear as Lovino looked away from his sniffing brother, tears beginning to form in his eyes as well. But he refused to cry.

He heard the sniffing from his brother escalate into small sobs, the tears wracking his thin frame.

_Damnit…_

Silently, tears of his own began to trickle down, creating small damp spots on his priestly robes, but he didn't care.

He pulled his younger brother into an embrace, holding him tightly as he let his own sobs escape from his mouth.

"I know Feliciano."

He stared at the statue of their god, Coracinus that stood on the altar, his pose calm yet powerful; the raven standing on his shoulder standing regal.

Lovino closed his eyes.

"I know."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Hey! Here is the 2nd chapter! Hope you like it!**

**:D**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Legend**

The olive green panels that were the doors of the training gym were open. Alfred leaned against the doorframe of one of the several rooms, his bare feet soothed by the cold wooden floors. He waited for a response.

"Sinistra?" Kiku asked, and then sheathed the katana. He posed once more, spreading one leg back and the other leg bent in front of him, his bare feet firmly planted. The straw dummy in front of him sat innocently staring.

Kiku narrowed his obsidian eyes.

He unsheathed it once more, the sound of his sword ringing in the air; A wide horizontal slash, every movement smooth and fluid, his body stretched forward and his feet stood sturdy on the ground. His short black hair swirled about his head, and the long sleeves of his yukata spun in the same direction.

A small thud was heard, the head of the dummy dropped to the floor.

Kiku smiled contently, and turned back to Alfred who clapped in awe of his friend's skills.

"Sinistra?" he repeated.

Alfred vigorously nodded, "Is there anything you can tell me?" He walked into the gym.

"Well," Kiku started, sheathing his katana once again and placing it on the ground. He sat on his legs and motioned for Alfred to do the same. "The City of Sinistra is quite large, if you ever recall from the academy." He gave the blond a pointed look while Alfred blushed slightly and scratched his head. He shifted on the ground a little, uncomfortable with the formal position before giving up and sitting cross-legged.

"Sorry, I probably slept through that class as well."

Kiku smiled.

"The City of Sinistra, "he started again, "is large and an extremely old city. The city is very stable, and the crops grown there are extremely high quality, therefore they prosper off of trading goods. Sinistra itself is very normal, bustling even, however they have reported time and time again of some sort of disappearance, mishap, or disaster to our Kingdom. Yet whenever we send soldiers there to aid the city, it seems in fine condition. The Sinistra Counsel is confused by the arrival of our guards, and they often say they never sent any message for help. No one can figure out what is wrong."

Alfred looked down, pensive.

"Otherwise," Kiku changed the tone to something lighter, "it is quite a tourist spot. There is even a legend surrounding the creation of the City. "

"Wait, you said something about a legend?" Alfred's eyes turned curious, eager to listen to fanciful stories and not rehashed facts he already knew. The swordsman and storyteller smiled at his friend, and replied.

"Well there is a legend that 200 years ago, back when Sinistra was just a small village,, it used to be cursed by a powerful sorcerer. Each year, one child would disappear, and soon after the child disappeared, the rest of the family would suffer mysterious injuries or misfortunes. Sometimes the houses would be set ablaze, the families trapped inside as they burned alive. Sometimes the rest of the children would go insane and murder their parents. Sometimes the family would seem to be fine, but at night you would hear the sound of screaming coming from their houses, and the most putrid smell of rotting flesh would waft from the windows."

"Eventually, each family would die. And eventually, the missing child would return, but with a terrifying vacant stare in their eyes. As if their souls had been stolen."

Alfred gulped nervously. Kiku was reminded of his friend's fear of horror stories. Chuckling in his head to Alfred's expression, he raised a hand and lightly patted the Guard's healthy shoulder.

"It gets better," Kiku attempted to sooth the blond, but Alfred just gulped nervously again and made a motion for him to continue.

Kiku sighed at his friend's hopeless hero complex and continued with the legend, "Then, one day, a powerful traveler came across the village. On his back he carried a beautiful sword, encrusted with a ruby and wrapped around it was a golden dragon that they said had magical properties. The handle was a special wood, Lucis wood to be exact, the legend states that the man had coaxed a Lucis tree to give the wood needed for his sword."

"After being graciously treated by the villagers, he offered to try and exterminate the sorcerer in return. One night, the traveler fought with the sorcerer on behalf of the village, and with the power of the sword, had slain the evil being.

The village's curse was lifted, and the villagers celebrated. But before they could thank the hero, he disappeared. He had left behind his powerful sword. In commemoration of the traveler's victory, the village placed his sword on a pedestal for all the villagers to see. "

"From that day on, the sword still is in sight for all to see, protected from time and thieves by the Lucis wood in the sword's handle. "

There was a small content pause, and then Alfred suddenly shot up from the ground, and proclaimed loudly, "I'm a HERO too!" He pumped his fist into the air and laughed. His sky-blue eyes twinkled as Kiku watched his friend's odd "HERO" dance. The swordsman sighed at the younger man's exuberance. Hearing the sounds of laughter coming from outside, he stood and padded towards the window, taking a peek to see who was arriving.

Gilbert, Ludwig, and Antonio were strolling down the pathway to the gym.

"Ludwig! You don't understand how awesome it was!" Gilbert exclaimed, patting his stern younger brother on the back. Ludwig briskly walked forward, trying to avoid Gilbert as much as he possibly could. He ran a hand through his blond hair, and tried to shoo away his annoying brother that trailed behind him.

"Go away Gilbert, I have "Captain" business with Kiku." Ludwig held up a scroll in his hand bearing the royal crest.

Gilbert frowned at the blond Captain of the Royal Guard, and swatting him on the arm, turned to the brunet.

"Hey! 'Toni! Don't you think it's awesome?"

"Sure! You're so awesome Gil!" his forest-green eyes smiling at his albino friend.

"Well thank you—no wait, I was talking about our match! Alfred and I, remember?"

Their Captain sighed, and closed his icy eyes briefly, "Brother, Antonio, we're here."

They stood in front of the oriental looking building, the stone statues that guarded the outside and the old wooden structure stood out of place in the surrounding buildings. But then again, the building was a gift from the King, specifically so that Kiku and other swordsmen could practice their art in a Shunese setting.

Kiku padded over to the front door of the gym and slid open the panels to let them in.

"Captain." He bowed respectfully. Ludwig stood in the narrow doorway and nodded in response, giving the scroll to the swordsman.

"The King has a mission for you."

"For me? But Lud—Captain, I have not gone on a mission for twelve years." The storyteller's thin eyebrows knitted together.

"Read the scroll before you begin to file your complaints."

Kiku nodded, genuinely worried. The last time they needed his specialty…

"Kiku? On a mission? What do you normally do?" Alfred asked, trying to sneak a peek over the storyteller's shoulder, but failing as Kiku expertly covered the text so that only he could read it. His face tensed as he continued to read on.

"Aren't you excited?" Gilbert's voice came from behind Ludwig's sturdy frame, but since he was shorter, the only indication of his presence was the chirping bird, Gilbird, that always flew above his head. Kiku raised his head to stare at the bird that represented Gilbert, and then shook his head slowly.

"Why not, Kiku?" The sound of Antonio's cheerful question came from behind Ludwig as well.

Ludwig peered behind him, and then shared a look with the Shungese man. Then back to Alfred. He frowned slightly.

"It is not my right to tell." The icy captain stated, searching for an interesting spot on the wall above Alfred's head. He tried to avoid the other blond's pouting face.

"He's an assassin!" Gilbert piped up. Ludwig narrowed his eyes, and turned around to face his smirking albino brother. He smacked his older brother on the head. "Idiot."

"What?" Alfred whipped his head to his old friend, his eyes grew wide, and his mouth gaping.

Gilbert had told him about the assassins when he had first started training under the albino. The assassins were an elite group of killers, under the command of the King himself. Each specialized in an area of skills, their own styles, and their own disgusting missions.

Alfred had heard of the heinous acts they had to commit, starting wars, burning down cities and slums, even killing royalty. They were much like the King's personal, corrupted army.

They also lead very secretive lives, and their identities were kept hidden to everyone except those in the elite group, the King, and limited parts of the Royal Guard. They were scorned by most of the

"Kiku…" The swordsman turned to Alfred, but not before sending a burning glare at the strands of Gilbert's white hair that were peeking behind Ludwig.

"You… an assassin?"

Alfred stood speechless; his Shunese friend bowed deeply, silently apologizing for never telling him his true occupation.

"You must never tell anyone, Alfred, if you do... If the King finds out…" He stopped himself, making Alfred aware of the serious consequences of loose-lips.

The blond continued the sentence anyway.

"I'll be killed."

"By myself."

Kiku glanced quickly at the albino idiot once again, knowing that Gilbert had been quite lucky this time. If he were to tell anyone else…

The room grew tense.

Alfred crossed his arms, shifting his limbs to avoid stiffness from his still fresh wounds.

He narrowed his eyes, and proving he wasn't as thick as he seemed, questioned suspiciously.

"Why… can you tell me now?"

"…" The swordsman glanced down at the scroll still unwrapped in his hand; the wax crest broken in half and crumbles of it strewn on the floor.

He gazed at Alfred, his eyebrows knitted together once again.

"It seems that I am your partner for your mission."

The room grew silent again; Alfred's voice came out hesitant.

"As Kiku? Or as an assassin?"

"Assassin."

"And what is your specialty?"

The oriental man sighed and looked to the side, catching Ludwig's imperceptible nod.

"Necessary Diplomacy."

"Diplomacy?" The blond asked, ignoring the first word in the occupation.

Kiku nodded.

Alfred relaxed his body, sighing in relief. He placed his hands behind his head, chuckling.

"You had me worried there. So no killing, maiming, or the like?"

Kiku recoiled slightly at Alfred's carefree smile.

The swordsman backed away slightly, his face morphing from serious to troubled, his mouth opening and closing, unable to answer. Ludwig took a few steps into the room, letting Gilbert follow, both entirely serious. Antonio was wisely conversing with someone outside instead of staying in the gym.

"Alfred…" Gilbert started.

"Alfred… " Ludwig stepped forward, "Necessary Diplomacy is—"

"Feliciano? Feliciano, what's wrong?" Antonio's worried voice trickled into the gym, stopping Ludwig before he could continue.

"Bastard! Don't ask what's wrong you jerk!" Lovino's voice cracked.

The Captain immediately swerved from his position to stride out the door, the seriousness morphed into worry written clearly on his face.

"Feliciano…" Ludwig moved towards the younger Father. The priest had changed out of his holy robes, wearing a soft white silk tunic that hung on his slender frame. In his arms he held a package, wrapped in white purified cloth and tied tightly.

"Get away from him potato-bastard!" Lovino got between the two men, trying to push the Captain away without skin contact "How you became a priest with that mouth I wonder…" Gilbert commented on the side.

As he approached, Ludwig noted the tear tracks that stained their cheeks, wondering what had happened.

"What is wrong?" He tried to nudge Lovino away from Feliciano, but the older priest stood his ground although he scrambled to avoid skin contact once again.

"You can't touch him!"

"Lovi… why not?" Antonio reached out to comfort his little tomato, but Lovino blushed and scooted away, bumping into his younger brother who was carefully holding onto the back of his silk black shirt.

"Don't touch me either bastard!"

"What's wrong?" Alfred and Kiku stood at the doorway. They had stopped their conversation, but Alfred was determined to continue it at a later time despite Kiku's discomfort.

Feliciano shifted from behind his brother's figure, rubbing away the tears that lingered in his eyes.

"Ve~ Ludwig! Sorry but if you touch me you'll make the purifying spells disappear." He gripped the package in his arms a little tighter, "Then this package wouldn't work anymore..."

Ludwig's eyes softened, and he resisted the urge to hug the priest.

"Alright…who is that package for?" He decided not to ask any questions about the package itself, figuring that Feliciano would have told him by now if he really wanted to.

"It's for Alfred!"

The hero straightened from his position abruptly.

"Me?" His glasses slightly crooked, he absentmindedly fixed them and strode past his group of friends towards the Holy Priests.

What could it possibly be?

He stopped himself before he touched them.

"Wait, if no one can touch you for the package's sake, why can I?"

"The spell was cast specifically so that only you could, bastard." Lovino ran a hand through his red hair and with a cheek puffed out, looked anywhere but at Antonio; the brunet still looking worriedly at the tear tracks that had dried on his cheek.

Alfred approached the white package carefully, deciding to hold his hands out instead of grabbing it and accidentally break the spell. He knew nothing about magic, even though he had superhuman strength that was clearly from magical origins.

Feliciano smiled at his blond friend and placed it gently in his hands.

Alfred's eyes danced in excitement, realizing they were about to perform magic.

Lovino glanced at his brother, and raising their hands they began to glow a soft white. Drawing indiscernible figures that seemed to be burned into the air, they began a chant in a commanding tone, "_magiam serva ut hunc liberum iuvet. magiam serva ut hunc liberum iuvet. magiam serva ut hunc liberum iuvet."_

Their clothes and hair swayed from the magic they controlled. The characters burned into the air began to arrange themselves carefully onto the package Alfred held. Little bits of words played with his fingers and around his wrists, making Alfred hold back a childish giggle, his eyes wide, enchanted by the magic.

The package's color changed from white to a deep blue, matching Alfred's irises. White characters were wounds tightly on the cloth, holding the package together as if they were rope and not words.

"The package will open when it is time." Lovino scowled at the blond who was gently shaking the bundle to see if he could guess what it was.

"What is this for?"

"Your journey, idiot!"

"You mean my mission."

"Ve~ of course!" Feliciano nodded, the sole curl on his head bobbing up and down.

He turned to Ludwig, throwing his arms open wide. His eyes closed in his usual smile.

"Hug?"

* * *

The city of Sinistra was bustling, sprawling with citizens going along their busy way. The noblemen and women walked down the roads with their noses in the air, their servants trailing after them with bags of goods.

The smell of freshly baked bread wafted in the air to create a comforting, homely scent. Yet despite the wealth of the city, many of the alleyways were filled with dirty children, sleeping under their cloaks and wearing itchy, dirt spattered tunics. Their feet calloused because of their lack of shoes, some of the orphans bandaged their splitting feet, hoping to prevent infection.

A little boy in particular, with scraggly light brown hair and large dark-blue eyes, sat on the ground, tears gathering in his eyes. His head resting on his knees, he curled into a fetal position. The sound of snorting laughing caught his attention.

He watched a group of pudgy nobles walk past him, and he pushed himself off the ground. But he tripped on a rock, and stumbling, bumped into one of the men. The noble women immediately held their noses as if he smelled when they saw the street rat.

"Brat." The man spat at the boy, shoving him and examining his own clothes for any filth. The noble scowled as he glanced at the dirty boy and shoved him away.

"This cost me a good deal of money boy." The child scrambled back a bit, and boldly held out his hands, silently asking for money.

"Go die." The man spat with vehemence. He put his nose in the air, and ignoring the trembling boy, continued to walk down the road with his colleagues.

The young boy observed the nobility stride down the road and turn a corner to some apothecary. He sighed in relief, and holding himself briefly to stop his trembling, twisted back into the alleyway he was in before and sprinted through the maze of little roads between the stores.

Left, right, right, left, and through the conspicuous wooden door in front of him; light trickling from the crack under the door.

The boy shielded his eyes momentarily, blinded by the light after spending hours waiting in the shadowy alleyways. He shuffled into the room and noted the warm air, candles and torches were placed everywhere, even on the floors, casting multiple shadows on the walls. The wooden planks that made the floor seemed to have rotted, a stink wafted about the room.

He was in a building that had not been rebuilt during the instatement of the new Kingdom.

He glanced around and spotted a large figure sitting on a chair in the corner of the rotting room. He felt himself start to tremble once more as he stared into the man's violet eyes and his innocent, almost child-like smile.

Ivan.

"Raivis, did you get it?" The boy nodded vigorously, and gulped audibly, forcing his legs to move towards Ivan. He unfolded his right hand to reveal a small rusty key, and Ivan smiled warmly. This made Raivis tremble even more. Something bad always happened when Ivan smiled like that.

"Good! Then that means we can commence with the plan. But first, can you find Toris for me?"

Raivis nodded again and began to scramble out of the room and further into the building. He glanced over his shoulder to see glowing violet eyes staring back.

* * *

**AN: Hey everyone! The main plot begins in the next chapter!**

**Remember to review, review review! Tell me what you think!**

**3Petaldancer**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thank you for all of the reviews that people have been giving! They are all wonderful! :D**

**So in thanks of so many reviews, here is another chapter for you all!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter Three: Blind

The fire crackled, burning the small shrub and twigs that Alfred had managed to gather from the surrounding area around the trodden path. He had curled his knees to his chest, hugging himself. The blond watched the glittering stars that drew milky rivers across the sky. Absentmindedly he noted the constellation of Coracinus' raven, its wings spread out in flight to spread the message of its owner's victory over evil. He reached up to his face and set his spectacles to rest on the ground next to him, allowing his vision to be slightly blurry, and gave a sigh.

He preferred to see without his glasses, everything seemed to be more surreal.

And he always preferred his daydreaming over reality anyways.

However, his blurry vision and the warmth of the fire did nothing to ease his worry over his best friend, Kiku.

He glanced at the assassin's back, tracing his sleeping figure with slightly squinting eyes. He watched silently for a few moments and then slowly lifted himself off the ground.

Kiku's mission scroll was safely tucked at the bottom of his bag.

He could get it, he could read it and see what it really said.

Curiosity took hold of him.

Listening carefully to Kiku's soft confident breaths, the blond tuned to every rise and fall of his friend's breath, and crept towards the leather sack.

As he approached, stopping every once in a while to make sure that the light sleeper behind the bag was still dozing, he failed to notice that his surroundings were slowly beginning to darken into black.

It wasn't until the bag itself had disappeared had he realized the chirping of crickets and the crackling of the fire had stopped.

He looked up.

He was standing in a void of silence, black.

He whipped his head behind him.

Nothing.

What? His blue eyes widened as he turned left and right, trying to figure out where he was.

"Where am I? What is this?"

He looked down. It was then that he noticed he couldn't even see himself.

Sound slowly came back to him, but it was not the comfort of crickets nor the warm fire, but something indistinguishable.

"Wait." He blinked, making sure that his eyes were truly open.

He blinked again, and slowly he felt his eyes widen in horror.

"What—?" He clutched his face, feeling for his glasses, anything. Instead of his usual frames, he felt cloth, silk that fit snugly over his eyes.

The indistinguishable sound became louder, turning into the sobs of a small child.

"A child?" He murmured to himself, still feeling the silk over his eyes and trying to tug it off. But the cloth stayed, and his fright stayed with him.

"Get off you damn cloth!" He tried to tear at the blindfold, yet it did nothing. His supernatural strength stretched it slightly but it would only morph back in place.

The sobs of the child grew louder and closer to him. He moved his head to the sound of the boy's cries.

He sounded hurt.

Slowly, the fear ebbed away. Alfred could deal with the damn blindfold later. The child came first.

He concentrated, easing into his Guard skills so that he was more comfortable with the dark. He heard no sound but the child's cries, and so he walked forward with caution.

Everything was nothing.

No matter where he walked there were no walls, no exits, and he never got closer to the child.

Just empty space.

He began to trudge tediously, going in the same direction for what seemed like hours.

So much for being a hero, he couldn't even find his way out of an infinite amount of space.

He scoffed at himself tiredly and droned in his head.

_Where am I?_ The question slowly becoming monotonous.

He tugged at the blindfold once again, feeling it stick back to its original position.

"So you are him, aru."

Alfred yelped, and whipped himself around.

He physically gasped and mentally sighed in relief at the same time.

Another person! He wasn't blind!

He joyfully felt his face to see that the blindfold had disappeared as well.

As he silently celebrated, he noted the man's characteristics.

The man who spoke had delicate Shungese features, his long black hair flowed over his back like silk, and a red flower hung behind his ear. His clothes were deep red, and golden phoenixes were sewn into the long sleeves of his foreign robes. His onyx eyes pierced Alfred with wisdom that the blond felt was forever beyond his own years.

"You don't look like much, aru."

Alfred jerked in protest at the insult.

"and….You look like a girl!" He pointed rudely.

The man's eye twitched. "Shut up aru!"

"Make me!"

The Shungese man tossed a curtain of hair behind his shoulder; the strands blending in with the black that surrounded them.

"I don't expect you to understand me nor the situation, aru!" He huffed and narrowed his penetrating gaze, pointing a long sleeve behind Alfred.

The blond followed his arm, and glancing back behind him, he saw the most beautiful emerald green eyes staring back at him.

Alfred stepped back.

"Who—?"

_Alfred!_

"Alfred? Alfred!" Blue irises revealed themselves, and Alfred peered groggily at the swordsman that hovered over him.

Oh, it was just a dream.

He bleared at his surroundings, vaguely remembering that they had hitched a ride on a wagon to get to the city. The dawn gave little light on the exposed back of the wagon.

The Guard jerked slightly as he felt their transportation go over a large bump on the worn down road. The horses clacking slowly on the path, he absentmindedly pushed away his blanket. He felt for his glasses, exhaling when he found them fit snuggly on his nose. Slowly sitting up, Kiku moving out of the way as to not collide with his head, Alfred yawned and noted the straw that was stuffed into the wagon they had hitched.

"Alfred," Kiku placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to get his attention, "we are almost at Sinistra. Get yourself ready for the mission." The blond collapsed back down and allowed his irises to roam the barely lighten skies.

He thought back to his dream, but the scenes slipped through his fingers like elusive silver fish.

All he could remember was green, beautiful, dangerous green.

_Dangerous?_ Alfred quirked his head at his own mental description, his blond locks shifting to the side.

_Why dangerous again?_

A clucking noise came from his right.

Then a disapproving "hm" from his friend told him that he should probably get up and ready to enter the City.

Alfred sat up once again and stretched out the kinks in his trained body.

"_Royal Guards must always be on alert!" _Gilbert had told him once.

Too bad he wasn't like any other Royal Guard, the man smirked to himself, grabbing his blanket and roughly shoving it into his bag.

"We are almost there Alfred, please hurry." Kiku gently pushed him along.

"Don't fret so much Kiku! It's not like we're going to be late or anything. There's no set time to arrive there." The older man frowned slightly, placing his own neatly folded blanket into his leather bag.

Alfred glanced at the bag briefly, still curious about Kiku's mission, but opted not to bring it up…yet.

The wagon jerked to a stop, the owner of the cart shouting in the process.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" Kiku turned and observed the man standing in the middle of the path, a relatively large bundle strapped to his back.

He was almost completely covered in grays, tans, and whites, which was very odd for a hot summer night. The only things visible was his innocent looking face and his glowing violet eyes, the pure white scarf trailing behind him.

"Sorry." His voice was surprisingly soft for such a huge man. Alfred jumped off the cart in curiosity.

"Hey, where are you going? Where are you from?" Leave it to the loud Guard to be as straightforward as possible. The blond gave an assuring grin.

"Oh, I'm from the City." The large man tilted his head, smiling almost childishly.

"I'm headed toward the Capital, I have business there." Kiku walked towards the man, hiding his katana from sight. He gave a stiff bow, "Ah, and we have business in Sinistra. It is nice to meet you."

The large man laughed softly.

"Everyone has business in our City these days." Alfred beamed, the stranger was really quite friendly.

"Is there…anything you could tell us about that is worth seeing in Sinistra?" Kiku asked formally. Alfred peered at the swordsman from the corner of his eye. The assassin certainly was acting suspicious…

But the warmly bundled man was so friendly!

"Is there anything cool? Like HERO stuff or anything?" The blond tried to ignore Kiku's suspicious behavior.

"Oh there are plenty of things to see, my friend. The sword of the Legendary Traveler, for example." Alfred's eyes sparkled at the mention of the Traveler.

"So it's really there? It's not a myth?"

"Not to my knowledge, my friend." The man chuckled at his enthusiasm and then caught the attention of the Shungese swordsman.

He lowered his head slightly and smirked into his scarf at the suspicious assassin.

Kiku sent dangerous vibes through his piercing glare.

Suddenly the man shifted the package on his back and with a blink, he became friendly again.

He turned towards Alfred, giving a warm smile that Alfred grinned back to.

"Well, my friend, I must be off. The sun is about to rise."

"Well then, we shall be on our way."

The man nodded to Alfred and brushed past Kiku, being careful not to jostle the bundle on his back.

"He seemed friendly…"

"I do not trust him."

Alfred cocked his head at his friend, "What? Why? He even confirmed that the legendary sword was there!"

"I already knew that much, Alfred." The swordsman waved the comment away, ignoring the blond's questions. He reached the back of the wagon to grab their bags filled with supplies.

"Let us go."

The blond watched his friend's back as he walked towards the bustling city.

* * *

"Lovino!" Antonio sprinted down the castle halls towards the priest.

"What do you want, bastard?" Brown hair swirled about his head as he turned to face the happy guard.

"Lovino, that's no way to treat your boss! And language, it's definitely not cute."

Antonio wagged his finger at the priest.

Lovino crossed his arms, puffing out a cheek.

"First of all, bastard, you aren't my boss anymore! I'm not a little kid. In fact, I'm higher ranked than you are." He pointedly poked the Guard's shoulder.

"Second, I can swear all the hell I want! Even if I'm a fucking priest now."

"But Lovinooooo," Antonio rubbed at his shoulder, " You're still my little tomato! And besides, Holy men don't swear."

The brunet turned slightly red, "H-How do you know? You aren't a holy man!" He ignored the first comment, looking quickly for a topic change. He reached to poke Antonio again, but the Guard cheerfully caught his hand and held it tight yet tenderly. The smaller man blushed bright red. Antonio smiled

"L-let go you bastard!" He made no motion to tug his hand away.

Antonio cocked his head, and looked down at the tomato-faced priest, his eyes becoming soft. He moved to cup Lovino's cheek.

The man blushed even more.

"You had a vision didn't you? You and Feli?" He asked gently.

"No…" Lovino looked down to avoid his gaze.

"You did," he sounded concerned, "What was it about? Who was it about?"

"T-that's none of your business jerk! I can't tell you anyways." The priest shook his head. "You aren't the Holy Priest for a reason…Antonio."

"Oh? Then is the vision something about your own future? Is that why?"

"N-No! Go away tomato bastard!" The younger man began to struggle out of his grip, pushing him away with surprising strength.

"Tell me! I can help you!"

The tears that began to well in Lovino's amber eyes startled Antonio.

"You can't know. You can't…" he whispered through sobs.

Antonio resisted the urge to shake him into understanding.

"Don't bear this alone!"

"You can't know, Antonio! Don't you understand that if you knew you'd—!" Lovino's amber eyes widened, he placed a hand over his mouth, realizing what he was about to say.

He backed away.

Antonio followed his steps, reaching out a hand.

"Lovino, I—!"

The sound of a slap rang through the air.

His head had snapped sideways by the force of Lovino's blow.

Antonio stood, shocked.

A sob caught in the priest's throat, he backed away farther, taking advantage of Antonio's frozen state.

"Fuck…" he ran.

He ran and ran, his soft shoes making minimal sound as he rushed through the halls.

He was always the faster runner.

_Fuck… fucking bastard…why the hell did I do that?_

Tears flew behind him. A little bit of the shared vision flashed before his eyes.

_Antonio was in a dark room and there were torches lit around him—the large blood-drenched axe up right, his hands clenched around the handle; knuckles turning white—red blood trailing down the pole._

"_You have no choice. You—"_

—_Antonio pierced the darkness with his forest-green eyes. They were dangerous, promising death—the blood rolled into the crevices of his tightened fist, dripping off his wrist—_

_He clenched his teeth, the soft spatter of life on the floor echoed in the room._

"_I'll go."_

Lovino tore down the halls, hearing the vague footsteps of Antonio fading out slowly. He grimaced at himself. He couldn't do anything to stop it. To stop his…

Fuck! Nothing he could—shit, he was such a coward.

* * *

The dawn had spread to a rosy sunrise, the light reaching over the stone wall that bordered the city. Birds chirped in the ancient forest, which enclosed the fortifications, and rustled their feathers, getting ready for a bright new day. Sinistra was waking from slumber, some of the citizens stumbling out of their homes, wiping the sleep from their eyes. Some carried out large crates, holding freshly picked vegetables, grain, flour, or fruits imported from neighboring regions.

The shopkeepers who were morning people shouted greetings to each other over the heads of those who ambled around bleary-eyed.

"Morning!" A burly man hollered to the brunette woman setting across from him.

"Hello Spencer, how are you this fine day?"

"Ah, I'm the usual. I need a spot of tea before I go off to work."

"Bloody hell, why are you so alive in the morning?" A woman groaned off to the side, addressing the two happy shopkeepers.

They chuckled at the grumpy woman that trudged into her store.

The smell of baking bread began to waft into the air as Alfred and Kiku strolled among the strangers.

Businesses were set left and right, men and women bustling to open their shops. Low, rectangular buildings surrounded the large marketplace and the streets were cobbled with large stones, branching out into dirt paths, and alleyways.

Light quickly poured over their forms, casting shadows of the two travelers.

Kiku smiled at the beauty of the city and leaving his pack on the ground, stretched his back.

"My body isn't as young as it used to be." He onyx eyes browsed over Alfred fleetingly, noting his rumpled green uniform and worn out brown jacket as the Guard stretched and twisted his body. The content grin on his face made Kiku smile.

"Now that we are here, we ought to scout and then map the area before we go to the Counsel Building." The blond jumped up with a "whoop," enthusiastic to move about and sight see, maybe he could finally see this Legendary Sword he had heard about.

As they ambled between the crowd of shop owners, Alfred began looking around at all of the delicious looking food.

Kiku placed his hands in his long Shungese sleeves and treaded on the cobbled path, greeting citizens who passed him politely.

"Man this place is so awesome!" he drooled over the succulent meats that were sizzling in the nearby stalls. Smoke wafted into the air, and the noise was beginning to increase.

"Indeed" Kiku nodded his head.

Alfred suddenly laughed to himself, drawing the Shungese man's attention.

"If Roderich were here, he would get so lost."

The image of a frustrated and blushing Head Counselor fuming as he stomped through the streets in his dark robes popped into Kiku's head. He covered his chuckle behind his sleeve, amused by the image.

While they were passing a dirt path, however, Alfred noted a mound of small, dirty children sleeping. His grin faded into a frown, and he cocked his head curiously, wondering why so many kids were slumbering in the alleyways.

"Don't those kids have parents or something?"

Kiku gazed somberly at the clustered figures on the ground, his heart wrenching slightly in his chest. He stopped walking and fixed his eyes on his naïve friend.

"They are orphans, Alfred."

"They…why are there so many?"

"I'm not sure. I have heard that there is overpopulation in this city, and there is a tremendous gap between the rich and the poor. Many parents are not able to feed their children, so they abandon them. Or, the parents may have fed the children more than themselves, leaving them to their deaths."

"But, that kind of thing happens in other cities as well." Alfred's brows furrowed at Kiku's reasoning, feeling as if something was off with the rumor.

"Indeed, I do not understand it either. What makes Sinistra so different that they would have orphans crowding the alleyways? It is quite suspicious." His voice toned down when a wealthy passerby started glaring after hearing the topic of their conversation.

Alfred, in one of his rare moments to read the atmosphere, noticed and glared back at the richly dressed woman. Her eyes widened, glancing at his Guard uniform, and sped up her pace.

When he returned to the conversation, Kiku was beaming proudly at his friend, albeit still disturbed by the woman's automatic reaction.

"What the hell was that about?" the Guard exclaimed loudly, attracting more gazes than necessary.

"Alfred," Kiku chided quietly to remind him of his volume, "please, do not be so loud."

"Huh? Oh, right."

They continued to stroll, the silence making Alfred fidget. As he glanced at Kiku's bag, he jolted in remembrance. _The mission._

"Hey…Kiku?" The swordsman glanced at his blond friend, sensing his hesitation, "You never told me what Necessary Diploma—" A rowdy swear came from behind him, followed by the sound of something breaking.

"Woah, watch out!" Alfred turned just in time to see a young teenage boy collide into him and stumble backwards. The green cloak over his head obscuring his face, the boy composed himself quickly and then sprinted around Alfred, jumping over a cart of salted meats. He weaved expertly through the crowds of people, as a large crash came from the direction he came from.

"The wine!" A voice exclaimed in horror from the crowd.

A group of nobles, all wearing expensive clothing, pushed aside a shopkeeper in haste.

"Thief! Catch him!" They scrambled to reach the boy that had dashed past Alfred.

Spectators stopped to watch as the men brushed past Kiku and Alfred and futilely tried to reach for the boy that was just out of reach.

"Hey! Hey you!" A pudgy man with sweat staining his clothes and panting harshly ran up to the two men. Kiku bowed, greeting the man formally.

"Not you! You," He pointed a sausage-thick finger at the startled Alfred, who recoiled a bit at the spit that flew from the sweaty man's mouth. "Aren't you from the Dextris? You are a Royal Guard, aren't you?" The young Guard stared at his uniform, a basic dark green tunic and pants, strapped boots, black sash, and a weapons pouch for those with smaller weapons. The crest of the Royal Court was etched onto his rankings badge that read, "Dolch(1) Alfred." The only article of clothing out of place was his favorite brown jacket that had fur lining on the collar and a "50" sewn on the back.

"My money pouch was stolen by that orphaned hooligan. Go get it!" More spittle flew out of his mouth, and the stench of his sweat assaulted their noses. Kiku refrained from covering his nose and opted breathing out of his mouth instead. Alfred did no such thing. He backed away from the panting man, and waved a hand in front of his face. Thankfully the man in front of him was ignorant to Alfred's obvious insult.

"What are you standing there for? Go catch that thief! Do your job!"

Kiku noted the spectators around them gave disgusted looks at the man before them. He nudged Alfred subtly while the blond was wiping the saliva off his cheek in irritation.

"Perhaps we should help them." The Shungese man suggested, although he made no motion to move.

"Do we have to?"

"You are a Guard, Alfred."

"Yeah well…" He muttered something about heroes only doing "cool things."

"While you go help this poor man, I will go and collect information. If you want to, we can switch positions." The blond grimaced at the words "collecting information," he always hated information gathering missions. Those kinds of missions were always so boring, he was horrible at subtlety whenever he asked questions, preferring to just get to the point, and did he already mention they were boring?

So with a sigh, he set off in the direction of the boy, leaping into the air to land on a pile of crates. The Guard easily jumped onto one of the low roofs of a nearby building, dashing across the roofs with ease and speed. As he ran, he spotted the group of nobles tripping over each other in haste to get the boy, and darted ahead. The thief was doing a great job avoiding the men, crawling through tight spaces, hurdling over obstacles like it was a natural reflex. Alfred smirked at the older men's bumbling as he ran with ease.

It was when the boy flung himself into the alleyway below him, sprinting through the darkness and losing the haughty men that Alfred decided to intervene.

He soared across a gap to another roof, tracing the boy's movements silently.

The thief turned a corner into another alleyway, this path fill with more light.

The blond Guard was about to intersect the boy when he saw him run up to a kneeling figure in a black cloak surrounded by a bunch of orphaned children who were chattering with each other. A little girl sat in the figure's lap, smiling up at him.

"Old man!" The cloaked figure turned towards the boy. Alfred could see the defined wrinkles on the man's face, his scraggly white hair, and normal knobby hands.

What struck him were not his elderly features, but the black, silky blindfold wrapped snuggly around his eyes.

Still standing of the roof, Alfred subconsciously reached for his own eyes, startling himself when he accidentally tapped the glass of his spectacles. There was something so familiar about that blindfold, yet he couldn't place it. The memories were too elusive for him to grasp. He peered at the black silk as if it would grow a mouth and magically answer all his questions. The thief began conversing with the blind man, and Alfred decided to file his familiarity with the blindfold for a later time. Now was the time to observe.

"Old man! I found some money just lying on the ground. Maybe you can use it to cure your eyes?" The teen lied. He pushed the money into the chest of the elder and after the blind man made no motion to accept it, the boy huffed and exclaimed, irritated.

"Take it!"

The children around them grew silent, and Alfred could see the old man smile fondly at the teen, as if he could see the fuming boy in front of him.

"I'm not going to take what you stole, so you better give it back." The elder's voice had the usual tones of aging in it, yet it was incredibly smooth and lyrical; so much that Alfred couldn't help think that he must have had an incredible voice when he was younger.

The teen blushed and then bristled at the elder's comment.

"I didn't steal it!" The little girl in the older man's lap giggled and snuggled further onto the blind man's lap.

"If the old man says you stole it, you stole it!" An orphan shouted, playful.

"I didn't! You can't prove that I did."

"But you did, Sam, you steal from people all the time."

"That doesn't mean that I stole from anyone this time!" He pointed a finger at the orphan who accused him.

"The old man is always right."

"Bloody hell he's—Ow!" He gained a slap to the back of the head, courtesy of the old man who snickered at the teen rubbing his head.

"Language, Sam."

The indignant teen glared at the blind man and shoved the moneybag once more at his chest.

"Just take it old geezer—Ow!"

"Old man will suffice just fine. 'Geezers' are grumpy people who sit on their wealthy arses all day and drink coffee from expensive golden plated cups."

"Whatever!" He threw the stolen moneybag at the man's feet.

Alfred let out a muffled chuckled at Sam on the rooftop, smothering his amusement behind his gloved hand.

Sam fumed at the man before him, and stared accusingly at the bag of money sitting on the ground. The other orphans made no move to pick it up, learning from past experience to never handle stolen money when the blind man was around to take care of them. He told them that stealing was for the weak and worthless.

"I don't get why you never take any of the money I give you, you could finally see if you actually accepted the money!" A finger pointed in frustration. The man laughed softly at his irritation.

"Stealing is never the right thing to do, Sam. Despite the fact that you got it from, and this I assume, a noble, that doesn't mean that he didn't work to earn that money. Each time you steal from someone, you take away the time they spent on it. You've basically wasted a bit of their life. Instead of stealing all the time, why not go and get a job?"

A teenage girl that sat next to him nodded with his words.

"Sam, what happened to your last job?"

The teen lowered his head and muttered something that Alfred couldn't hear.

The smile of the blind's face faded, replaced with a serious frown. The blond Guard leaned in closer, caught in his serious aura.

"Sam, you must learn to control yourself. You understand how even though others can have tempers during work or throw fits, you can't afford to. You are a talented young man, and even though those nobles are prejudiced against orphans, Coracinus knows why, you are such a valuable asset and they can't see that. The moment you make some sort of trouble, they will fire you. " He motioned for the boy to lean closer, and with a knobby hand, he ruffled the boy's hair. Tilting bending his neck, the man gave the boy a small kiss on his forehead, and smiled when Sam blushed slightly.

"How did you know he stole the money, old man?" The teenage girl that sat next to him asked. The blind man smirked to her question, causing Alfred to have an unexplainable jolt in his stomach. _Wait. Don't tell me he—_

"I'd assume that the Royal Guard that is watching us converse right now was doing his duty and pursuing you in your escape." He smirked cockily, his face lifted directly at Alfred's face, as if he could see despite being blind.

_No way._

"Hello, would you like the money bag back?"

* * *

**AN: **

**Here are a bunch of side-notes that might help you understand the story at the moment.**

**Dolch means Knife/Dagger in German.**

**The military of Dextris is separated into a two factions. Antonio's and Gilbert's. Above these two in ranking is Ludwig, so he has the highest rank in the Royal Guard, thus he's called Captain. (Kiku has even higher status than him, but since Assassins aren't supposed to be recognized outside of their occupation except for by a few people, he is considered an outsider of the Royal Guard. He is available in the Royal Court as an individual fighter.) **

**All of those under Antonio will have different specialties or categories they fit in and will be named in Spanish.**

**All of those under Gilbert will have different specialties and categories they fit in and will be named in German. **

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Now that I finished explaining that... review review review! Tell me what you think. :D

-Petaldancer


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: I would love to thank all of those who reviewed. Especially Crystalgurl101, anonymous-ranger, TheNinjaWangsta, and .Fish for all supporting me throughout these chapters! Usually when I write fanfictions, I don't get past the third chapter, but I've finally broke the cycle! Yay! **

**Special Thanks to M, who has been editing and beta-ing all of my chapters, I'm grateful to you!**

**So as a treat for all of those who are waiting, here is Chapter 4 updated early for you.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Four: A Gentleman**

"Pasta!" The Feliciano exclaimed, luring out the noodles from the pot of steaming water. He expertly drained the succulent noodles and tossed them in the sauce. The pan's sizzling was music to his ears as he added liberal amounts of cheese. "Ve!" He rejoiced at how delicious the dish was looking, and then began humming a tune he heard Roderich play on his piano. The kitchen was colorfully decorated with red, green, and white; some of Feliciano's favorite colors. The musical clang of pots and boiling water blended in with the priest's humming, creating a comfortable atmosphere.

Ludwig was hit with the scent of garlic and his childhood home as he walked into the priest's private kitchens.

"Pasta again?"

"Oh!" Feliciano turned and waved his wooden spoon at the Captain in greeting, "Ludwig!" He rushed over to hug his best friend.

"Er…um… Hello." Ludwig gave the pasta-lover an awkward pat on the back. Really, he should be used to this by now. Yet each time his affectionate friend embraced him, Ludwig would feel his heart pounding in his chest so hard that he swore the priest could hear it. This was how best friends normally felt for each other, right?

"You're just in time, I'm almost done with the pasta!" Feliciano let go, his fingers snatching onto Ludwig's black, no-sleeve tunic and dragged the Captain to the stove with him to finish his dish. The Capitan, used to his friend's need to have his company everywhere, let himself be hauled to the stove and after Feliciano let go of his tunic, he watched the talented cook patiently. The young priest ladled the steaming pasta into a dish on the counter while babbling something about the population of cats in the castle, the stubborn curl on his head bouncing.

"…there really are a lot of cats in this castle! I had to 'punish' one the other day for tearing up some of the tapestries in the entrance hall of the church, but it didn't like that at all and I ended up with a ton of scratches on my face that really hurt." He forked the cheesy pasta onto his plate. He turned to the blond, smiling brilliantly.

As Ludwig turned away, blushing, Feliciano's eyes sparkled in pleasure, internally cheering. He could only hope that Ludwig would _realize _sometime soon.

"Do you want some too Ludi?"

The stoic man shook his head, his blush starting to fade.

"It's really good this time, you sure?"

"Yes, I just ate."

"Let me guess, wurst, potatoes, and beer!"

Ludwig nodded. He ate that everyday.

"Ludi, you need to eat something more than just wurst, potatoes, and beer. You eat that everyday!"

"They taste just fine."

"Ve, I don't understand, pasta is so much better!"

The Captain was used to his conversation, considering they went over this topic each time they ate together or talked about food. He sighed slightly.

"Oh, that reminds me, Ludwig!"

"Hm?"

"I was talking to Francis about cooking in the castle kitchens and making pasta for people. Francis said, 'as my beautiful self as Head Chef, why would you ever want to cook for others when I could cook for you, my love?' and he pulled a rose out of nowhere!"

Ludwig turned to him instantly, his head whipping around when Feliciano started quoting Francis. His eyes then narrowed when Feliciano mentioned the rose.

"How many times have I told you to stay away from that perverted cook?"

"Ve, but Ludwig, he's my 'Big Brother!'"

"You already have Lovino, and isn't he already very lonely with you always hanging out with other people you affectionately call 'Big Brothers?'"

"Ve? But he has Antonio!"

"He seems to be more annoyed of Antonio than in love with him."

"Ve…" Feliciano looked downcast for a moment, thinking about his lonely brother. They were both Holy Priests, but since Lovino didn't like any of his friends, especially Ludwig, they didn't hang out as much.

As the young priest's eyes turned thoughtful, Ludwig decided it was time to start the topic he wanted to discuss with Feliciano.

"Feliciano," the Captain started, "I want to talk to you about something."

"Ve?"

* * *

Alfred's blue irises widened considerably, lost for words. He opened and closed his mouth several times, unable to think of what to say.

_How can a blind old man detect me when most of the Royal Guard can't?_ _Either my skills have gotten rusty or he's amazing._

As he pondered, he absentmindedly closed his eyes for a small moment, and saw two strange emeralds staring back at him from the darkness for the briefest moment.

_Who are—?_

The jingling of the sack of money being thrown at his face interrupted his thoughts. He instantly snatched it from the air without seeing, his honed reflexes acting for him. Alfred opened his eyes to see the children below him staring in awe.

"Hm, nice catch." The blind man grinned with scraggly teeth. Alfred couldn't help but smirk back. He twirled the bag around his finger like he would his daggers, a persistent habit.

There was a collective group of "woah!" from the children that stood below him.

"That was so cool!"

"He was like 'whoosh!' and he had his eyes closed, but he caught it!" A young boy gestured wildly.

"Do you think I could do that?"

"Psh, no. You're so clumsy."

"Hey! You are too. I saw you tripping over air yesterday!"

"There was a pebble there, I told you already—"

"Children, please settle down." He raised a wrinkled hand, and they quieted.

"You have your money, Guard. If you would be so kind to leave us in peace, that would be greatly appreciated." He waved his raised hand in a shooing motion, as if Alfred were a mere fly.

The blond's eye twitched in annoyance. He took his opinion back about the old man; he couldn't be that amazing if he couldn't recognize Alfred's awesomeness.

"Geez, Old _Geezer_, couldn't you be a bit more respectful to a _Royal Guard_?

The blind man scowled.

"Can't you be a bit more _respectful_ to your _elders_ who are _wiser_ and more _intelligent_ than you?"

"You don't even know me! How can you think that I'm not intelligent?"

"What are you then? "Awesome?" or whatever it is youth call themselves these days?"

Alfred grinned and placed his hands on his hips in silent affirmation. If Kiku were here, he would say that Alfred spent too much time around Gilbert.

"That's right, and I'm way more awesome than you." Somewhere in the back of Alfred's mind, something suddenly warned him that insulting this old, blind man was not a smart idea.

The blind man scowled at his comment, and before he could retort, Alfred had to duck to avoid a rock to the forehead.

Then a small pebble landed next to Alfred foot, and another one aimed at his shoe. One passed high above his head and landed behind him. Alfred blinked.

The children were throwing rocks at him, and missing terribly; well, except the first pebble that would have hit if he hadn't ducked.

"Don't insult the old man!"

"Yeah! He's more awesome than you'll ever be!"

"He took care of Gina when she was really sick!"

"And he always visits to teach us new stuff that no one else wants to teach us!"

"And he plays with us, and gives us lots of blankets to keep warm while we're sleeping, and he tells us awesome stories. He's really nice—"

"Although he's mean sometimes."

"But he's a good singer."

"And he give us really bad tasting food, but at least it's something!"

The cloaked man lightly tapped the boy on the back of the head for his last comment.

"My food does not taste bad."

"The scones especially."

"Hush up Jane, my food is gourmet, and happens to be delicious." The teenage girl that stood next to him grinned and the blind man scowled.

At this point, Alfred had sat down and leaned over the edge of the roof to hear the babbling, chuckling at their antics.

_The old man actually seems pretty cool, although his ability to detect me while I'm spying is freaky since he is blind and all…_

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a shout coming towards their direction. Since he had been leaning over the edge of the roof, the owner of the purse and his noble lackeys had lost him in the platforms of rooftops. He could tell specifically by the way they were cursing each other out. Smirking, Alfred dashed towards their voices, making sure they didn't see the brief figure flit above them as he jumped over their heads and to another building. He tuned into their conversation, placing himself flat on the shingled rooftop.

"What happened to that bloody Guard?"

"I don't know, he just plain disappeared."

"How much do you want to bet he was with that thief?"

"It certainly would be no surprise."

The pudgy man ran over to where they were, larger spots of sweat were drenching his clothes. The nobles he was standing around wrinkled their noses and back away slightly, but he didn't notice.

"Did you find him?"

"He's vanished. sir."

"What? What about that hooligan?"

"He's vanished as well…" The pudgy man glared at his subordinate, and the man continued hesitantly, "Sir."

"Damnit! That's _my_ money that the kid ran off with!"

"Oh, really? I never noticed—" one of the men muttered sarcastically

"Shut your trap! I am your superior, and must I remind you of who pays you your "hard-earned" salary?"

"No…"

"That's right, so if you don't want me to persuade the City Counsel of your 'misbehavior,' don't ever talk back to me again."

"Yes… Sir Carton." The sweaty man folded his arms, feeling smug.

"Good, now where is that useless Guard?"

"We haven't been able to track him yet, sir."

"Well of course not, they're all trained in stealth!"

"I heard of this one guy in the Royal Guard, what was his name? Gelburt?"

The other noble shrugged.

"He's supposed to be incredible at it or something." Carton waved away the statement, snorting.

"Heh, he's probably incredible at failing—What was _that?_" A flash of silver almost skewered his head.

An intricately carved silver dagger had been impaled into the tip of his shoe. He yelled and stumbled backwards onto the ground, grabbing his foot in the process.

A figure hurled down from the sky like a demon, the shadows covering his face until the only thing the nobles and Carton could see were two glowing blue irises.

"Don't talk about my teacher that way." Alfred spun another silver dagger hazardously around his finger as he advanced towards the shaking Carton.

"Y-Your. I-I am… please don't kill me!" He squealed out, holding his foot and trembling as he tried to remove the dagger from his expensive shoes.

Alfred's tall, shadowy figure loomed over the pudgy man, his blue eyes glowing strangely, and the dagger glinted dangerously.

"D-Don't! Please!" Carton looked around to ask for help from his subordinates but they were standing behind the Guard, seeming to be too scared themselves.

"Help! Help me you fools! D-Demon!" Spit flew from his mouth, and Alfred grimaced in disgust, ignoring his insult. The man looked like he was about to wet himself, the men around him frozen in their place.

The advancing Guard sighed, and stepping into the light, kneeled down in front of a recoiling Carton and expertly slid his knife out of the noble's leather shoe.

The men around him let out a relieved sighed as he stood up and pulled out the plump man's moneybag.

"Here." He tossed it at Carton's large stomach, and prepared to scale back onto the roofs so that he could find Kiku. The noble lackeys scrambling out of his way as he blended with the shadows once more.

"W-Wait!" Alfred stopped, his back facing Carton.

"Y-you have business here right? That's why a Royal Guard was sent here, right?"

The blond sighed and turned to face the noble.

"Yes, how'd you know?"

Carton's face split into a greedy smile, too wide for Alfred's liking.

"Well, I happen to be very close to the City Counsel, I'm one of their consultants you see." He pulled himself up from the ground, brushing off the dust from his expensive clothes. He cleared his throat, and Alfred waited for him to continue, he obviously wanted to continue speaking.

"I overheard that a Royal Guard and a swordsman were coming over to check on our city. That's why you're here right?"

"Perhaps," Alfred narrowed his eyes, still suspicious of the grinning man in front of him.

"I can get you a meeting with them, I can pull some strings. They _always_ listen to me." Alfred cocked his head, still suspicious, but didn't see any danger in having the meeting a little earlier than they had planned.

He nodded and turned back around, waving a hand nonchalantly.

"I'll see you at the Counsel Building then."

He ran up the wall to his left, launching himself to the opposite wall and gracefully caught the ledge to pull himself up. He heard the vague whispers of the noblemen as he dashed off to find Kiku.

"Why would…Guard?…"

"warn him…the orphans are..."

* * *

The sound of a fork scraping the bright red plate echoed through the private kitchens.

"So you wanted to talk, Ludi?" The Captain nodded solemnly as he watched the priest set down the fork and pat his pasta-filled stomach. The scent of garlic and cheese still drifted in the aftermath of Feliciano's attack upon the delicious noodle dish.

The young priest smiled at the strict man to continue.

"You and Lovino had a vision did you not?" The smile converted to a frown almost immediately.

"Ludi… can we not talk about this please?" The red head grimaced at the mention of their vision.

"But it must be very important right? You saw the future, and by the looks of your reaction, it must be very grim."

"Ve, that's why we can't talk about it: It's part of the future."

"Can't it be changed?" He placed a hand on his friend's trembling shoulder. The priest tried his best to hold in his tears.

"I-I don't think so." Ludwig's grip tightened, making the priest flinch.

"There is no way?"

A pause.

"I don't know."

"So these things are bound to happen, and you can't even tell us?"

"Yes, if I told you…" the tears were spilling freely now, and he rubbed his honey eyes as Ludwig softened his grip. The Captain felt a red dust his cheeks as he moved closer and held the sniffing man in his arms.

"Then, then why do you need to know this vision at all? What's the point?" Ludwig whispered, not expecting an answer. He felt Feliciano's body tremble and held him a bit tighter. He felt an odd sensation to protect the priest well in his chest.

"Maybe Coracinus just wanted us to know ahead of time, so that we could prepare."

"Prepare for what?"

He buried himself into Ludwig's chest, snuggling there to gather some kind of comfort from the handsome man. He thought back to their vision, watching a snippet of the vision flit before his eyes.

_Ludwig stood in front of the troops wearing all black—blood pooling under his feet—the iciest blue eyes stared into the piles of mutilated corpses—A ragged doll, held by a small, cold hand—the scream sounded inhuman—running through the forest, they were so fast—_

"_You can't outrun—think you really—" _

"_I can try—"_

_His hand was outstretched, grasping for the white cloth—_

"_Felici—!"_

The priest ducked his head to smell Ludwig's unique scent; Fresh air, and the sweet lingering of good beer.

"Feliciano?"

The priest shuddered.

"Are you alright?"

"No."

The silence sat heavily in the air.

Ludwig ventured forth, continuing their conversation, rubbing circles on the priest's back.

"What do you need to prepare for, Feliciano?"

The priest wiped some tears onto Ludwig's shirt, his hand grasping the soft fabric.

"Your—" _Wait_.

Feliciano's eyes widened considerably, staring at the Captain's chest. He jerked and then struggled out of Ludwig's hold, and pushing him away slightly. _Wait a moment._

As Ludwig loosened his grip on the young priest, he lingered curiously.

The Holy Priest sat back, serious. Turning the idea over in his head, again and again, his eyes tracing Ludwig's confused face. _Maybe._

_It could work, it could definitely work!_

As Feliciano's honey irises burned the image of his love into his mind, Ludwig watched the priest have the most intense atmosphere around him he had ever seen.

Then slowly, Ludwig gazed at those eyes as they morphed from helpless to hopeful, Feliciano's energy just sparking to life. A frown became a grin, an illegal smile that shattered the tense atmosphere from before, and his cheeks still damp.

Ludwig couldn't help but think he was beautiful. _Beautiful?_ Ludwig frowned at the descriptor his brain had decided for the priest in front of him.

"Ve~ Ludwig! I have an idea! But I can't tell you all of it."

The addressed man snapped out of his trance.

"An idea?"

The redhead nodded, still smiling.

"Don't tell anyone alright?"

* * *

Kiku shook his head at Alfred's brashness as they ran out of the Counsel Building, being chased by the Serviant, the troops who handled crime and mischief in the city.

"Halt! Stop!"

Alfred cursed under his breath.

"Why—and I must ask why Alfred, because that was completely unnecessary, so do not think of interrupting me—did you feel the need to punch a _hole_ in the _wall_ of the most _expensive_ meeting room they happened to provide for us?" _Uh oh, he seems angry._ The blond turned a corner into an alleyway, Kiku followed sternly. Two of the Serviant followed them off the cobbled road.

"Could you not just keep your temper for one moment?"

Alfred huffed.

"I wasn't going to just sit around and let them smile happily on their rich, fat asses, and state that everything in the city was just plain dandy. They completely ignored my question about the orphans! 'What orphans? Those children deserve whatever life throws at them.' What bull!"

"Yes, I was quite disturbed about that as well, but I do not feel that destroying government property was the best way to show your anger."

"Fuck this!" Alfred scaled one of the walls and rolled onto a rooftop, and Kiku landed swiftly next to him, still fuming.

"You are a Royal Guard. You are in the position to demand this information from them because of your status."

"Whatever! You heard them, their 'information' was 'there is nothing wrong in this city.'" They leapt across a gap and then sprung down into another alleyway; the sound of yelling and footsteps absent from their ears.

"Good, I think we lost them." The blond leaned back, observing a cat running across in front of them.

"Alfred."

"Yes, Kiku, I got it. It'll be alright!" He pulled his thumbs up and a cliché grin. Kiku sighed, linking his hands together in his long sleeves from habit.

"That leads to me wonder why this city hates orphans so much." The assassin brought up.

"Right." Alfred's expression faded as his eyebrows furrowed.

"There is certainly an underlying issue that we have not been informed of."

The blond Guard crossed his arms and absentmindedly chewed a side of his lip in thought.

"Everyone hates them, but no one's really explained _why _they hate them."

Kiku nodded.

Alfred frowned, and pushed off the wall he was leaning on, taking off his jacket. Man it was getting hot after all that running around.

"Whatever the situation in this city is, it is our mission to discover its secrets. This 'misreporting' problem is too suspicious to call off."

Alfred nodded, determined to solve this mystery. He ran a hand through his golden hair, leaning back onto the wall and not caring that his green uniform was probably going to get dirtier.

The sounds of the bustling city echoed around them, the sound of women giggling over a new perfume in the shop they were hiding behind wafted into the dark alleys. The rank of sewage drifted near their feet, but they ignored it in favor of hiding from the Serviants.

Alfred let his mind wander.

_The blind man, who exactly is he? Why are orphans so scorned in such a prosperous city? Those noblemen…they were talking about something important. And Kiku's mission, I totally forgot about that. "Necessary Diplomacy?"… what is that exactly? He looked so somber about it. Ludwig and Kiku aren't telling me something extremely important. I may be bad at reading the atmosphere but even I could tell they were hiding something from me. Didn't Kiku say that 12 years ago was the last time he had a mission?_

Alfred was startled from his thoughts by the sunlight pouring over the heads of the citizens, stretching its blinding fingers into their dark corner. Alfred reflexively shielded his eyes and as he was blinded by the sun, Kiku noted a hunched figure walking down the street with a couple of orphans surrounding him; An old man, with white hair, a cloak over his head, surrounded by children, and a black blindfold. He looked just like the man that Alfred had described. He smiled at the man's kindness, but he was disturbed by something nagging his mind. Why did the atmosphere around the man seem so off? Kiku felt as if the blind man was someone familiar. The small scar on the old man's knobby hand did seem to be very similar to—wait._ Perhaps he is…it can't be._

When Alfred had moved out of the sun's harsh gaze, he saw Kiku dashing out of the alley soundlessly.

"Wait! Kiku!"

The assassin spun around and stopped Alfred before he could see the old man ambling away from him.

"Alfred, I need you to go and gather information back at the marketplace for me. I have a suspicion and we might have a lead. I recall a shopkeeper mentioning a large population of orphans surrounding the market. Plus you seem hungry, perhaps you should get some food and I will meet you back here soon. " The lies rolled off his tongue, trying to still his eyes from glancing back at the blind man.

Alfred cocked his head, confused. Kiku must have noticed some sort of clue that Alfred hadn't. _Well he's usually right with these kinds of things._

"Alright, I'll see you at the gate maybe?"

"Oh, that sounds good. Good bye, Alfred."

"See ya later!"

As soon as Alfred turned his back, Kiku leaped into the shadows near the old man, expertly avoiding the gazes of the children around him. As a group of citizens passed by, he slipped behind them and allowed himself to blend in with the flow of pedestrians that strolled along the cobbled road.

He listened to the conversation ahead of him, beyond the laughing women he was walking behind.

"Old Man? You're leaving so soon?"

"Indeed, I must get ready for something quite important."

"What's so important that you'd leave us now? Usually you…"

The conversation blended in with the chatter of people around him, making Kiku curse in his head. _The more this blind man talks, the more he confirms my suspicions._

A tall stranger who had an obnoxious laugh then blocked his view of the elder.

"Okay, I guess I'll see you later then!" A child giggled in the crowd he could only hear. Someone to Kiku's right tries to shove past him, "Move."

The assassin paid no mind and gracefully dodged the woman hanging onto the hand of her child.

"Bye Old man!"

"So long." He saw the blind man walking out of the gates of Sinistra.

_He's alone. I must pursue him._

The Shungese swordsman trailed behind the old man at a safe distance, treading softly on the ground, he made sure that noise was absent from his footsteps.

As they continued to walk away from the city, stepping into an area of abandoned fields that used to grow grain, the dirt was hard, dry, and cracked. The blind man began to hum a beautiful, yet sad tune, unfamiliar to Kiku. Soft wind stirred the swordsman's hair and ruffled the man's cloak, the haunting melody carried on the wings of air. More scenery passed by them, ancient trees, a few travelers that paid no attention to the two people strolling further away from the city. They reached a wide-open abandoned field, the ground packed and cracking from lack of water.

The man stopped, staring out into the forest that swayed ahead of him and continued to hum his tune. Kiku silently drew his sword, the metal glinting in the increasingly harsh sun.

The tune stopped.

"An assassin." The blind man was mocking; making the words sound twisted behind his elderly voice. The swordsman took these words as a cue to introduce himself formally, as he was taught to do so before a one-on-one battle.

Kiku bowed deeply, holding his sword forward in the proper greeting, almost as if he were offering his weapon to his opponent.

"I am Kiku of Xiang. Assassin to the King of Our Holy Kingdom, Merulae."

He straightened, watching as the blind man turned to face him, a smirk present on his wrinkled face.

"Kiku, I'm surprised that we've met again, and once again on opposing sides."

"It is truly unfortunate we are not able to work together."

"Indeed." The old man raised his scarred hand in front of his face, as if he were examining the scar despite being blind. "This scar you gave me—ah yes it does bring such fond memories."

"That was twelve years ago, and you were certainly not an old man then."

Kiku replied, and then stared forward, waiting for the old man to return his formal greeting. The constant grin of the blind man's face intensified into something more vicious.

He bowed low, an arm stretched outwards and the other arm he bent over. The position looked odd on the old man, his cloak billowing from the wind that brushed his sides, his cloak revealing thin, white hair.

"Greetings, Kiku of Xiang, to Sinistra." He paused, smirking to himself more than to the assassin.

"I am Arthur, a Gentleman, an Old Man, and The Sorcerer of Sinistra."

* * *

**AN: For those of you who guessed Arthur's identity correctly, congrats! **

**As some follow-up notes so you don't get confused:**

**Each city has a City Counsel. The City Counsel basically consists of the *enter whatever city name* Leader as the "mayor" for the city, and the rest of the Government all reside in the City Counsel. Each city has a leader except Dextris, because it's the capital city so it's looked out for by the Royal Court who also deals with nation stuff. **

******Carton is a greasy friend of the Sinistra Leader, so he has 'pretend' high-status (if that makes any sense).**  


**The nation they are in now is called Merulae (Blackbird in latin).**

**A nation that is across the sea is Shung, the place where Kiku and the 'mysterious stranger' from Alfred's dream is from. Kiku comes specifically from a province called Xiang. **

**There are other cities that you should know exist if you want to get a head start in the story:**

**Pruebenia and Tomatera are to name a few. I'm pretty sure you can guess which characters came from which cities ;)**

**The next following chapters are hopefully going to be pretty awesome 3**

**Review! The more you review, the faster I write these chapters! **

**Love you all!**

**-Petaldancer**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Hey! reuploaded this chapter because I had a few things I needed to change!**

**Enjoy!**

**

* * *

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**Chapter Five: A Ghost, A Sorcerer, and an Idiot?  
**

The wind was raging now, debris flying around them, clothes rustling savagely, and hair blew around their faces. Kiku's eyes narrowed at the decrepit old man in front of him that was smirking viciously. The swordsman took a deep breath, calming his mind. His foot circled behind him, into a crouched position, and one hand on the scabbard, another hand gripping the handle of his katana. Another breath, and Kiku began the fight.

The sound of unsheathed metal was lost in the ferocious wind. He sliced horizontally, but Arthur smirked and jumped back with ease that an old body could never be able to pull off. Another slash, but Arthur ducked under the blade and then rolled as Kiku swung the blade downwards. The swordsman scowled and following the blind man's roll with light footsteps, he took a jab at Arthur.

When the flash of metal pierced the rolling old man's side, it met thin air, the illusion of the smirking old man on the ground dispersed.

Kiku instantly swung the katana behind him when he felt hot breath down his neck but hit nothing once again.

"Why do you not fight?" Kiku shouted above the roaring wind, enraged that his opponent would do nothing but dodge, "You have only been dodging my strikes."

The blind man appeared in front of him and gave him a smile that seemed a little forced. "I like to play with my prey, you know that, Kiku." His old face scrunched momentarily into something that might have been a grimace, but Kiku didn't notice.

The assassin jumped high into the air, letting the wind blow at his back, he dove and swung the scabbard at the elder before him, followed by his blade. Arthur ran to him and ducked beneath the first swing; the sorcerer latched onto Kiku's sword hand with a vice grip that made Kiku drop his katana, and with the boost of magic, hurled him to the ground. Kiku, realizing the angle of his fall, twisted his body to land up right and swung the scabbard at Arthur's smirking head. The old man let go of Kiku's wrist and jumped back, putting distance between them.

"You're much slower than the last time we fought." Arthur commented, his cloak blowing to the side furiously from the wind.

"Forgive me, it has been twelve years." Kiku eyed Arthur's old body suspiciously.

"That is only a blink of an eye for someone who has lived as long as I."

Arthur smiled at the ironic statement, and waved a wrinkled hand; the wind stopping to a halt. Dense magic filled the atmosphere, manipulating the air in the abandoned field.

Instantly, the wind manifested into a snake and twisted at Kiku, tossing him into the air. The assassin expected this, jumping backwards, and let the current that accompanied the snake to push him a good distance away from Arthur. He dashed to his katana that was still lying to his right and, drawing it back as if to sheath it and prepared for another quick finishing slash. After all, his art was to kill in one lethal move.

It was time to get serious.

"Now, Kiku, it has been such a long time since we last talked." The man stalled, eyeing the position Kiku was in. He recognized that stance immediately.

Kiku ignored the sorcerer and concentrated on the magic stored inside the diamond embedded into the hilt of the katana. His magic skills were limited compared to Arthur's, since the wind magic he was borrowing was not from his core; rather, it was from the essence of the diamond. However, that would do, since he relied more on his swordsmanship than any kind of magic.

The wind snake that had pushed him forward fluctuated for a second and Kiku took advantage of this, pushing the katana's magic into the air and making the snake disintegrate. He noted a small grimace on Arthur's face, but brushed away his curiosity.

The wind instantly circled about him, his own use of magic in control of the air around him. The long sleeves of his tunic followed the air current circling him.

"We have nothing to talk about." Kiku responded, his eyes piercing the sorcerer before him.

The blind man's grimace deepened as he waved a hand to draw his magic back towards him. Arthur let the magic build inside of him, waiting for the right time to strike before Kiku did, the magic sharpening around him as he manipulated it to do his bidding.

He then felt the wind stolen from his grasp, his magical core jerking in protest and he waited as Kiku manipulated the wind to coat his blade, hardening and elongating it so that slicing through entire walls was an easy task. The debris from the ground spun around the swordsman in a small tornado.

"As you know, every person who has seen this technique, besides you, is dead." Kiku narrowed his eyes at the sorcerer.

Arthur had indeed seen this technique twice before. The last time they had encountered each other on the war zone twelve years ago, Kiku had cut down anything that had come in his way, from several trees to stone walls to enemies. It was a definite threat in Arthur's book. The scar that started on his hand stretched up his forearm to his elbow.

"I most certainly recall that devilish technique of yours." Arthur commented, a sneer on his wrinkled face.

Kiku had to grimace at the twisted expression that was plastered on such an old man.

"And I most certainly do not recall you being an elderly, sweet old man. It is quite disturbing to fight such an illusion." Kiku readied his stance and Arthur tensed,

his snapping magic ready to pierce through the swordsman when he came closer.

Kiku charged forward, his blade technique sharpening into a visible, shining, and long sword. His black hair flew out of his face, the sword held over his head. Arthur dashed to the right, predicting the slash to come down and was about to pierce the Shungese man, but Kiku smirked as the sorcerer fell for his feint and the swordsman immediately swung the sword horizontally, aiming for Arthur's vulnerable self.

Then, Kiku heard a scream that wasn't coming from the sorcerer before him.

"What are you _doing?" _

Everything happened too quickly.

Kiku felt his blade hand jerk away from Arthur with unnatural force.

All he could see was a blond flash in the periphery of his vision, the sound of tearing fabric and slicing metal, and his katana being knocked out of his hand, flying to the right.

The atmosphere was frozen. The blind sorcerer had fortunately fallen to the ground, in shock, but unharmed except a lock of wispy white hair that he would gladly give away instead of his head.

Alfred was standing behind Kiku. The katana was so deeply embedded in the ground that it had created cracks that spanned along the surface of the dry earth. Half of one of Alfred's daggers was lying on the ground, and Kiku whirled to face a furious Guard.

"What the hell do you think you're _doing?_" Alfred was grasping his hand holding the other half of the dagger, a part of his glove missing, and blood pooling from his palm to drip to the ground. Kiku had never seen him so furious before in his life.

"Alfred I can explain—"

"Who do you think you're trying to kill? He's an _old, blind man that takes care of the orphaned children in this city!_ Tell me why he deserves to die." Alfred stopped grasping his hand, ignoring the pain in favor of wrath. Kiku backed away, stumbling as the blond advanced, eyes glowing a dark, raging blue. The crunch of his superhuman strength echoed as he stalked towards the swordsman, cracks forming beneath him in the dry earth.

"Alfred this was part of my mission—you must understand! That man is not who you think he is!" Alfred narrowed his eyes, his fists clenched as Kiku took a step forward towards his angry friend. The distance between them was small; he tried to place a hand on the Guard's shoulder, but Alfred knocked it away.

"Listen, Alfred, this is for the good of the Royal Court—" His eyebrows furrowing at the Guard's violent reaction.

"Is this what 'Necessary Diplomacy' is? Killing anyone who is in the way of the Royal Court? In the way of the King?" He glanced at the old man still staring at them in shock.

"How can someone like that be in the way? And what do you mean by 'not what he seems?' He's _blind_."

"He is a danger to our nation, Alfred! That man is possibly the most powerful sorcerer in history! Do you understand Alfred? He is a murderer! He is the sorcerer from—"

"This blind old man is a _murderer?"_ Kiku winced at Alfred's enraged, and incredulous tone. He had definitely phrased that explanation wrong.

Alfred gripped Kiku's shoulders, shaking the assassin, words spewing out of his mouth.

"I don't know what is going on, and I don't know who he is, but this man has to be innocent! Look, Kiku, you're making some kind of mistake—" Kiku's eyes widened, looking beyond him.

"Alfred! Behind—" The blond felt the sorcerer's hot breath down his neck that sent cold shivers down his spine.

"You are such bloody idiots." And then pain burst from his skull, his vision wavering. The world seemed a blur, a figure he supposed was Kiku stepping towards him. As darkness engulfed him, he heard this friend shouting his name, and a voice laughing. Comfortable warmth enveloped him, vaguely familiar to the wonderful sensation of magic. Yet different, something smelled of…rosemary and cinnamon? The world began to fade out.

"…idiot."

He lost consciousness to the vision of beautiful green eyes peering out at him from the darkness.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kiku watched helplessly as the Guard crumpled into the arms of the enemy.

"Alfred!"

Arthur laughed as he held the unconscious blond before him hostage, watching as Kiku, the ruthless assassin he had always faced, hesitated to approach him. The Shungese man took a step forward, and Arthur sharpened his magic visibly and pressed the blade to Alfred's pale, creamy throat.

"I suggest you stay where you are, Kiku, lest you hurt your friend. Like you did to… what was his name? Ludwig? Does he still have that scar running down his thigh when you had to impale his leg?" Arthur taunted, the memory flashing in his mind. The desperation on the swordsman's face as Arthur held the captive Ludwig under his spell, his body entranced to do nothing but stay limp in his arms. The expression of the ruthless swordsman as he impaled the blond Captain in order to make him an invalid hostage to Arthur. The sorcerer made his expression dull.

Kiku did nothing but clench his fists, glaring at the sorcerer with every inch of his being.

"Let go of Alfred."

"Alfred is his name?" He glanced at the unconscious Guard, noting that his glasses were slipping off his face, and chuckled a bit bitterly, "This friend of yours is a naïve idiot." He watched that same desperation bubble to his eyes, just like the time before.

Arthur would make no mistake this time, he would take Kiku's naïve friend hostage.

He let his magic circle around him, preparing for teleportation. Kiku only stood by, seething, and watched as Arthur smirked in his face, hoisting the unsurprisingly heavy idiot backwards with him, his magic dagger still pressed to Alfred. Arthur gave a little remark to the glaring assassin.

"I'll see you later, Kiku."

"You better not hurt him, Arthur, or you will pay dearly." Anger apparent in his voice.

"You can rescue him, _if_ you can find me. If he is still alive." The blind man retorted bitterly and in an intense flash, they were gone.

Gone.

Kiku crumbled to his knees, his hands clutching the fabric of his trousers, the feeling of desolation settled in.

_Damnit! _He pounded the ground, defeated. Bringing his hands to clutch his head in frustration, he breathed in deeply to try and calm himself.

_I'll find you, Alfred. I'll find you._

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

He was in that dark place again, the blindfold once again covering his sight. Everything was exactly the same, although there were no cries of a child. Only silence. Not even the soles of his shoes made sound wherever he stepped, even when he jumped on the solid floor as hard as he could, he heard nothing. The clap of his hands turned mute, the only thing he could hear was the sound of his voice.

"It wasn't this bad last time I came here…" Alfred found at least some comfort in his own voice. "I wonder where I am?" He tugged at the blindfold, finding the same problem as before as it molding back to his face, giving little yield.

Alfred gave a sigh. Maybe that Shungese stranger was here again, might as well try.

"Pretty boy? Are you there?"

Silence answered.

"Damn… Flower man? Shungese guy? Person who originated from the noble family of girly red sunflowers?" Alfred listed off bored insults, trying to prompt the man into showing himself. He never expected this to actually work.

"Possible figment of my imagina—"

"Will you shut up, aru?"

He whipped around to find the stranger behind him, and his blindfold had once again disappeared.

"Woo! The blindfold is finally gone!" The Shungese man refrained from smacking the blond Guard.

"Yes, aru. Now the last time we met, I hadn't introduced myself." The man waved a long silk sleeve and two wooden chairs appeared before them. "Sit, we have much to discuss." The blond pattered to the chair, poking it suspiciously.

"How'd you do that?"

"What, aru?"

"The chair appearing trick," Alfred furrowed his eyebrows and waved his hand spontaneously, "I can't do it."

"You don't belong to this plane."

"Plane?"

"Indeed, aru. This specific dimension." The blond cocked his head, and after a few seconds of thinking, he plopped onto the chair.

"So who are you?" The man perched elegantly on the chair, clearly someone who was of noble status.

"I am Yao, the son of Emperor Sui, and I used to be the Prince of Shung."

"Used to be?" Alfred inquired, his hands interwoven and propping up his chin.

"Yes." An emotion too quick to identify flickered across his features. Alfred continued, but didn't noticed that Yao was looking away.

"What do you mean used to be?"

There was silence, and as the Guard waited for a response, all he could see was the curtain of black hair that covered the prince's face.

The next words sent a chill down Alfred's spine.

"I am dead, aru."

The Guard fell off his chair with a soundless crash as if sound had been stolen from his body, scrambling backwards on the floor. His face contorted in horror.

"D-dead?" Yao watched as the young Guard's face paled, and he started trembling, hugging himself.

"Indeed."

"A-as in a ghost? The scary 'I'm going to murder you in your sleep and laugh as creepily as possible when you're awake' ghost?" Alfred suddenly wished that the blindfold was back on, at least then he wouldn't have to see the ghost. _Not that I'm afraid of ghosts or anything_, Alfred sniffed.

Yao smirked, amused at the "brave" Guard's phobia, but then shook his head.

"I'm not a ghost, aru." The naïve blond visibly relaxed.

"O-oh. But you're still dead right? So why are you still here? And how is that any different from a ghost?"

The Shungese prince motioned for the blond to sit back down in his chair, and the Guard sat back on the chair hesitantly, unsure if the man before him really wasn't a ghost (or an undead). He let his blue eyes trained on the dead man, confirming that the prince was not transparent.

Slightly annoyed by Alfred's persistent staring, Yao attempted to smack the back of the blond's head, only to miss when Alfred reflexively ducked.

The prince blinked as his hand swiped thin air, and the stared down at the grinning blond.

He sighed, "Nice reflexes, aru. We still have some hope for you yet."

Alfred's grin widened at the compliment and he settled back into his chair with more confidence.

"Now, the reason why I am here is because I refuse to move on. Yet I do not have any grudges that tie me to the living world that would make me a ghost, thus I am stuck in his plane."

Alfred nodded, slightly confused.

"This is the reason that I can do these 'tricks' and you can't, aru." He waved his sleeve in demonstration, and a wooden table appeared from thin air. He smiled at Alfred's awed face and then waved the small table away.

"I can also contact a limited amount of people from the living world through these kinds of 'dreams.' You happen to be one of those people, Coracinus knows why." The prince muttered the last part.

"So, what's the point of refusing to move on? How old are you anyways?"

Yao sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose through his sleeve. Couldn't the guy stay with one topic for at least more than a minute or two?

"Please, Alfred. Stop talking, aru."

The Guard shut his mouth with an inaudible click of his jaw. _Ah, sweet silence_, Yao smiled. But after a few seconds, Alfred opened his mouth.

"How did you know my name?"

"Shut up, aru!"

Alfred couldn't help laugh at the enraged Shungese man, despite being at the end of the prince's death glare.

Yao turned away and closing his eyes, took a deep breath, exhaled, and then opening his eyes, he turned back to the grinning blond.

"I am too old for me to count, I believe I might be about two decades, but I'm not sure. I know your name because I observed your 'heroic' rescue of the sorcerer, and that young swordsman was shouting your name." Alfred beamed at the term "heroic" and the Shungese man narrowed his sharp eyes. He grabbed Alfred's shoulder, and gripped it hard. The Guard winced as he stared into the intense gaze of the wise prince.

"You are such a naïve fool. That man you 'saved' is not a sweet little lamb."

Before Alfred could respond, someone shaking his shoulders awoke him.

Xxxxxxxx

As he opened his bleary eyes, he peered up.

In a place where there should have been eyes, there were only the contours of a black silk blindfold. Rosemary assaulted Alfred's nose as he attributed the scent to the man lingering above him.

He noted that he was lying on a small cot, a blanket covering him. The room he was in consisted of a tall mirror, clearly meant for a full view of the body, the small cot he had been lying on, and a small table that had a collection of oddly shaped bottles filled with suspiciously sparkling ingredients. A window that was open let the sunshine into the room.

"So the idiot awakes."

Alfred stared up at the sneering stranger that hovered above him.

Corn-colored blond hair framed the man's face, a petite nose, thin lips, and delicate bone structure. He wore a dark green tunic, rope attached to the tassel around his waist. Alfred absentmindedly noted him a handsome, but thought nothing of it. The feature that stood out the most, though, had to be the thickest eyebrows he had ever seen.

He felt the air rush out of him as the blond stranger punched his stomach.

"Bloody Git! My eyebrows are not that large!"

Oh, had he said that out loud? He coughed as he gasped; the sound of his hacking filled the stone room.

After gaining a sufficient amount of breath, the Guard exclaimed, "Coracinus, who the hell are you!"

The man before him scowled, obviously annoyed.

"You haven't even been awake for more than a few minutes and I can already tell we'll get along wonderfully," he stated sarcastically, crossing his arms clad in a soft white tunic. Alfred examined the man carefully, the lyrical tones in his voice sounded familiar to him, and that blindfold…

"Old Geezer?" He dodged instinctively to avoid another punch to his sore stomach, but rolled off the small cot and fell ungracefully onto the stone floor.

"Oof!" He heard the smallest chuckle as he lay dazed for a moment, and then wincing, reached a wrapped hand to rub his throbbing head. His fingers met a crisp bandage wrapped neatly around his skull. He pressed the wound gingerly and grimaced at the sharp pain. Where had this wound come from? He stared at the man looming over him, and then his memory rushed back to him. He quickly rose to his feet.

"You! I remember now, you knocked me out from behind!" He pointed an accusatory finger at the scowling sorcerer, "also, how did you get so young?" He added as a second thought, still shouting. He yelped as he had to dodge a swipe to his face.

"You are a hostage, thus you are not in the position to ask questions." Arthur's voice seemed void of any emotion whatsoever; his posture completely neutral.

"I can ask as many questions as I want! I'm your hero!"

_Hero?_

The dull expression on the sorcerer's face changed to furious. He glared at the clear image of Alfred in front of him, his magic giving him an ability to see everything around him without using his actual eyes. Arthur felt a seething anger rise to his chest, _who does this git think he is?_

"I did not ask you to risk your bloody, naïve, little ass just so that you could interfere!" His facial expressions clearly portraying rage, but to Alfred, every emotion that spread across Arthur's face seemed to be dulled by the black blindfold hiding his eyes.

The Guard felt his own temper rise to the sight of the livid man before him and throwing his hands into the air, seething, he exclaimed, "Yeah well it looked like you needed help!"

"_Help_?" Arthur gritted out, incredulous.

Suddenly, Alfred felt the scent of rosemary rush into the air and morph into something so sinister it swept away his anger and left chills down his spine. He backed away from the enraged sorcerer, feeling the pulses of magic rise from Arthur's lean body. What struck him, though, was Arthur's grimacing face, as if he were in some sort of internal struggle. The sorcerer was clutching at his eyes, and stumbled back, hitting the small wooden table behind him.

As quickly as the sinister magic came, it retreated.

The rosemary scent rushed back into Arthur's body, and the sorcerer was bent over, panting slightly, and running a hand through his hair. The strips from his blindfold dangling near the sides of his face.

"What was that?"

A deep, shaky breath was all that answered his question.

"Hey! Answer me old man." Alfred used the sorcerer's nickname, not knowing what else to call him. He stepped towards the other blond, feeling a bit concerned as the man sat on the small table, his head still lowered.

"Old geezer—" A snap of Arthur's fingers interrupted him, and then he spoke in a trembling voice, "My name is Arthur."

There was a small pause as Alfred frowned at the interruption and then he opened his mouth to continue, but when he tried to speak, no sound accompanied it. He grasped his throat, panicking as he tried to say something, anything. His blue irises widening, the blond stared at the sorcerer before him, glowering at Arthur's satisfied, albeit shaky, smirk.

_Too bad it's only temporary_, Arthur thought.

The Guard clawed at his neck in an attempt to speak.

He narrowed his eyes when Arthur's smirk intensified and he cupped a hand to his ear mockingly, "What? I'm sorry I can't hear you."

That's when the Guard launched himself at the blindfolded sorcerer. The two blonds plummeted onto the cold floor, rolling on the stone to gain the upper hand.

"Fuck!" They proceeded to roll into a table leg and topple a vase, which shattered into pieces.

"My vase!" He swung an uppercut into the Guard's jaw but Alfred caught his hand and began to crush it, making the sorcerer cry out. Arthur latched onto Alfred's hair and yanked it, causing the Guard to let go of his broken hand. In retaliation, Alfred reached behind Arthur's head for the strips of his black blindfold and rolling them over so he was on top; he yanked at the back of the blindfold to send Arthur's head colliding with the ground.

Arthur, lying with his back on the cold floor and dazed, grimaced and recovered relatively quickly, lashing out at the blond soldier lingering above him; making a move to jab out the man's eyes, or at least steal his glasses. The man on top had an obvious advantage, as he calmly dodged the swipe at his face.

The mute Guard narrowed his eyes, still glaring at the blind man underneath him and made to punch the sorcerer. Arthur woozily bent his neck to the side, making the superhuman Guard miss and punch a hole into the stone instead.

"My floor!" The sorcerer gaped at the small crater Alfred had created.

Arthur snarled and his magic lashed out in the form of wind, blowing Alfred off him and sending him crashing on the stone floor. The Guard's head made a painful cracking sound as he further injured his already wounded head. Taking advantage of the dazed state Alfred was in, Arthur pinned the other man effectively to the ground, planting himself on the blond's waist to prevent him from moving as he tied Alfred's arms and legs with the rope around his waist so that he couldn't move.

"You are such a fucking git! Bloody hell, can't you just be a normal hostage?" The other blond made pointed signs to silently curse him out with the most colorful language possible, his blue eyes sparking asasasa he glared at the blindfolded sorcerer. Arthur smirked victoriously at his soundless captive.

"Heh, right, forgot about that. Maybe your lack of speech will make up for your irritating nature." The Guard would have reared up to attack him if not for his bonds and his hazy vision from his augmented head injury. Instead, the blond glared accusingly, a flurry of emotions swimming in his eyes: Anger, annoyance, regret for saving Arthur.

The victorious grin on sorcerer's face slipped as he 'saw' the regret in Alfred's eyes, regret that pierced into his heart. Sometimes Arthur wished that his magic hadn't given him the ability to see without his eyes.

He scowled when he felt a bit of guilt rise in his chest, but quashed it.

Subconsciously, he leaned forward, hovering over the glaring blond below him, out of the corner of his "eyes" he saw the ribbons of his blindfold. The sweet scent of burnt wood wafted into his nose. He breathed deeply the same time he heard Alfred stop breathing. Looking into Alfred's pools of blue, his magic providing the image for him, he noted that the blond was frozen, staring up with a frightened look on his face. _What? Why is he so scared…?_

Still realizing he was sitting on Alfred's waist, Arthur scrambled off the frozen blond and ran a hand through his hair, both men exhaling. The sorcerer could feel his cheeks dusting red and he twirled around to cover it, slightly dizzy from his head injury that was starting to throb. He walked into the small kitchen, leaving the Guard lying on the floor, to grab a cup of tea to calm his nerves, and probably something for his hand and aching head.

"H-hey!" Alfred startled, surprised that his speech had returned.

"Are you just going to _leave me here?_" The voice whined from the bedroom floor that Alfred was still attached to.

The sorcerer in the kitchen made no response.

Alfred glanced at his surroundings. The vase that had held a bouquet of dried out roses was shattered on the floor, hazardous pieces of the porcelain near his wrist. Wait, where were his gloves? He twisted his head to peer around the room in search for his gloves, his daggers, any of his guard equipment, but he found nothing.

_Damn sorcerer who the hell is he? That… what was his name? Arthur? _

Alfred struggled in his bonds, and after a few more minutes, he gave up. Instead he made the most amount of whining noises as possibly could just to spite the man in the kitchen. He heard a tired sigh and the shuffling of feet walking into the room.

The sorcerer mumbled something about "twits", and with ice bag to his head and his hand wrapped tightly in bandages, he lay on the cot, lazily pulling the blanket over him.

"Hey! What about me?" Alfred yelled, and he was met with silence. He struggled against his bonds hopelessly; his vision was still hazy and his supernatural strength was being hindered by his head injury, after a couple minutes he repeated the question.

There was no response but a sigh.

Alfred let his head drop to the floor, automatically wincing. _Ow._

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gilbert couldn't help but think awesome thoughts.

Look at how awesome my troops are!

His troops were sparring separately in the training ground. The ground had been repaired from Gilbert's last escapade with Alfred, the dirt repacked, trees magically repaired, and equipment set in their rightful places. Well, at least the equipment used to be in their rightful places before his awesome troops had stormed the training grounds; but that couldn't be avoided. Men and women in their green uniforms threw daggers, crossed swords, and parried blows with varying levels of skill, none of them using magic, since Gilbert had forbidden them to do so for today's training. He watched a skilled Schwert(1) jump into the air and, throwing her sword at the Dolch(2), both of women grinning insanely. Gilbert felt his chest bubble up with pride for his troops, and as he was about to turn back to the rest of the soldiers, a blond servant with thick eyebrows (Peter was it?) came running over to him, holding a scroll.

"Leader Gilbert?"

"Ja?" The albino cocked a head at the wide-eyed boy before him. Peter scrambled to open the scroll in front of the infamous man.

"You have been called to the Royal Throne Room for a briefing of the status of the troops, your previous mission, and opinions about the current diplomatic conflict with Shung. Please make sure to dress accordingly in front of his and her majesty, one scribe is required. This meeting also involves Captain Ludwig and Leader Antonio." The boy read out as clearly as possible, excitement in his voice as he performed his first mission as promoted messenger.

Gilbert motioned for the boy to hand the scroll over and Peter pushed it into his hands hastily. Quirking an eyebrow at the hyper boy, he took a look at the scroll to assess his orders, and nodding (coolly) to himself, he rolled up the scroll.

"Tell Roddy that I'll be right up." He smirked at Alfred's nickname for the anal Head Advisor. The boy in front of him cocked a head, not knowing who "Roddy" was.

"Oh, I meant the Head Advisor, Roderich." Comprehension filled the boy's eyes and he ran off into the castle.

"Okay!" Peter called behind him.

The albino shook his head at Peter's excitement and then turned back to his troops, his white uniform reflecting the sun. The troops were still sparring mercilessly, two men were helping each other to a bench to treat their wounds.

Gilbert placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled, gaining the notice of his sweaty, panting soldiers.

The movement stopped immediately, and every warrior stood in abrupt attention.

"I have a meeting to attend, so you are all dismissed!"

"Yes sir!" The crowd motioned in a salute simultaneously, equipment scattered everywhere and large craters sprinkled the grounds.

The albino winced at the lecture he would get from the Head Advisor for the mess his troops made. It wasn't his fault that they were soldiers too awesome for a mere training ground. Well, it actually was.

Gilbert shook his head to clear his thoughts and walked towards the entrance into the castle.

Never mind the grounds, he had to prepare for the summons. He strode through the hallways, navigating them with ease and confidence that had been present since his first day in the Royal Court, ten years ago.

Ten years ago...

Gilbert grinned, at age 16, at the intimidating, bulky man before him. The sun shone brightly, kissing Gilbert's silvery locks, crowds of people sat in the stands, yelling obscenities, cheers, and spontaneous nonsense. The earth was packed for the purpose of fighting today's tournament: the Krieger Battles.

They were standing in the middle of Krieger Stadium itself, in Prubenia.

He heard the cheers of his name, men and women alike, some already betting for his victory. He was the youngest warrior there, and the prize money was 1,000,000 aurum, but he wouldn't be deterred. He would get the prize money and he and his younger brother wouldn't ever have to live in the streets ever again. He would make little ten-year-old Ludwig and his old man Fritz, who was watching over him in the heavens, proud.

He smirked as he charged towards the oblivious man before him. This guy doesn't know what he's getting himself into.

He drew his sword and dashed straight at the man about to chop his head off with an axe.

The crowd had never seen a battle finish so quickly in their lives.

In three moves, he took down his opponent. He ran into the slower man's defenses, using his small body to weave under his axe. A horizontal cut at his waist, the man groaned, and holding a hand to his waist, lashed out at the albino. The lithe teen danced out of the way and kicked the man's feet out from under him. His sword cut across the warrior's back as he fell and then jumped away when the man swiped his axe behind him. Gilbert laughed mocking the bulky man before him and swung the dull part of his sword onto the man's axe-wielding hand, making him drop the weapon. The sound of metal hitting the floor echoed throughout the stadium, the crowd not sure how to respond. Then, Gilbert heard a loud whoop coming from somewhere off in the crowd. The teen albino squinted: a young boy, with blond hair that was slicked back and icy blue eyes, was cheering for him. Ludwig.

"Gilbert! Gilbert!" He clapped, the sound resonating through the stadium.

The noise broke the crowd, as the audience cheered as loudly as possible.

"Gilbert! Gilbert! Gilbert!" They chanted his name, and the brightest grin split his face, making his mouth almost hurt.

Gilbert made a thumbs-up in the direction of his cheering brother.

He could do this. He could win this tournament hands down.

For Ludwig.

* * *

**AN: Schwert: Sword in German**

**Dolch: Dagger in German**

**As you are all pondering, I will be providing backstories within this story, but of course, I have to jump over some other hurdles first!**

**Review, review, review!**

**-Petaldancer  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Hello everyone! I know that it's been a long time since I last posted, and finally got to it.**

**I was hoping to post this yesterday since it was my birthday, but I failed to do so. Sorry everyone!**

**The next two chapters were originally just one, but since it was so long, I had to split it up. Sorry for such a short chapter! I'll post the other part soon!**

**Enjoy!**

**

* * *

Chapter Six: The Broken Door  
**

"Those kids will be the death of me." Arthur huffed to himself, once again an old man, but smiled fondly at the memory of their laughs. Yes, their innocent, smiling faces were something he wouldn't regret. Unlike that day so many years ago…

"_Awrtha?" Piercing, ocean blue eyes stared back at him. Beautiful sapphires they were, he peered at the child with his magic—"What are you dwoing?"—He could do nothing to help this child, he—"Awrtha?" The child gazed up at him, he felt his tears start to well under his blindfold—"Are you gonna show me your eyes now? You said you would—" Never did he think he would have to—he gazed at this hopeless child with his eyes._

"_They're so pretty!" A gasp, then silence._

_Blue iris, so void of soul that—_

_He was gone._

Arthur shook his head, trying to clear the past that fogged his mind. He took a deep breath, mentally pushing away the images of the around his sleeping quarters, he stood in front of the body-length mirror in his room.

He 'stared' into the mirror, his magic providing a picture for him, his blindfold sitting neatly over his eyes. An old man stared back, and Arthur sneered at the reflection. Gradually the elderly man began to fade, his features morphing into his young self. Arthur watched with disinterest as the wrinkles that had littered his body disappeared to reveal smooth, pale skin. He placed a hand on his face to make sure that the furrows in his skin had vanished, and lifted a thick eyebrow to make sure it was functioning properly. His magic preferred destruction ever since he was born. Over the decades, Arthur had learned to control that destruction to a point so that he could perform general, but meager chores. When it came to creating or repairing, however, his magic seemed to buck under his own control.

After many tries, Arthur had managed to create illusions, having no instructor but himself

The sorcerer stood back, moving his joints to make sure that his limbs and eyebrows were still in working function after he dispelled the illusion. He glanced at his youthful reflection, and waved a hand to summon his cloak.

Arthur patted his messy blond hair down and placed the cloak's hood over his head.

The cloak itself was simple, jet black with the edges frayed and fading out to a gray from use. Many at this point would consider replacing the bedraggled fabric, but no matter, it was a prized possession. The sorcerer glanced at the sleeping Guard that he had lifted into his cot.

The boy had some kind of nerve, attacking Arthur, his host—wait—kidnapper.

The sorcerer wasn't sure why he had decided to let Alfred sleep on his comfy little cot; the twit drooled in his sleep.

When he tried to come up with reasons as to _why_ he was even treating his hostage like a guest, he drew a blank.

Arthur sighed. The Guard was an idiot, he was loud, obnoxious, a naïve little git, rude, and had the foolish idea that he had _saved_ Arthur from Kiku's technique.

The sorcerer chided himself; he was acting so off around this stranger when normally by now he would have just—no, now was not the time to ponder about the past.

He carded a hand halfway through his hair; _whatever this behavior is, it's nothing._

Arthur walked towards the door, his long boots padding on the stone floor of the small, two-story tower. He checked that his blindfold was securely tied to his head, and after stepping out of the bedroom; he locked the door and jostled his broken hand. Wincing, he avoided moving it around more. There was no way that Arthur would heal the hand through his own temperamental magic, he would probably end up amputating his arm in the attempt.

He molded his magic, complacent today, towards his spell books as he made his way to the hallway and then locked the door to the bedroom Alfred dozing in. The books hovered alongside him and dropped themselves carelessly into the leather satchel he had fashioned several years ago before he headed out into the forest, locking the entrance with a powerful charm, just in case Alfred escaped from Arthur's bedroom.

He weaved through the ancient trees of the forest and took a deep breath of the primeval air. Birds chirped in the trees, and sunlight danced through the canopy, distinct rays shining down. Arthur smiled to himself as he stepped over roots, hearing the murmurs of some of the fairy colonies that lived at the trunks of the trees. He was glad he could befriend some of the magical creatures in the forest, feeling lucky that they chose to show themselves to him in the first place.

As he reached a clearing he took note of the dense magic that filled the air. This would be a good spot.

He gathered the particles of magic around him; it soothed and controlled his own usually destructive power.

He placed his hands out to his sides, his palms up, and he called _her._

The power in the air swirled in complicated patterns as if dancing to music.

The word sounded like a whisper resounding from all sides instead of from his lips, the animals around his quieted and the sound of hooves came closer.

There was a rustle in the leaves behind him. A whinny that sounded as pure as music, and hooves clicked on the ground. A white unicorn approached him, her silver mane flowing graciously down her back as she rubbed her nuzzle into the hands stroking her.

"Beautiful as always," Arthur sighed in happiness, glad to see that his friend was uninjured from the Serviants that combed through the forest for creatures to hunt. She nudged her muzzle at his broken hand and he jumped at the odd feeling of his hand being healed by her natural magic. He smiled as he unwound the hand from its bandages and stroked her mane the way he knew she liked it.

"Thank you," his voice sounding warmer than it would ever sound near humans.

"I trust that you are eating well?"

She neighed in something of a confirmation.

"How are the young ones?"

The unicorn shook her mane, letting out a pitiful whine.

He felt his heart jump.

Arthur widened his eyes under the blindfold and although his own heart was panicking, he gave her a comforting, calming stroke and asked, "Are they still so sick?"

Her eyes turned towards the ground, the air surrounding them heavy with grief.

He bowed his head momentarily

"But… I thought that they had recovered from the previous manticore attacks?"

She lowered her head further into his hands, giving a pitiful neigh, accepting his attempt to comfort her.

He paused, thinking it out.

His magic was set against healing, whatever he tried to heal would lesion, destroy itself inside out, or just plain disappear. No, his magic was not meant for healing. Seeing as how he destroyed everything by merely speaking when he was a child, and how he still had trouble controlling the power in the first place.

"Perhaps I could…"

She bowed her head and sent a frantic, frightened nudge against his hands.

Stomping her hooves, she shook herself and bolted in the direction from where she came; a snort and a whinny accompanying her dash.

The branches twisting themselves out of the way by the force of her pure magic, he heard her sprint away as quickly as she possibly could. Before he could chase after her however, he felt the tug on his consciousness along with the rustling of the leaves behind him. The magic that was dense in the air suddenly seemed cease movement, the temperature dropping.

As Arthur spun around, he came to face the chest of a magnificent creature that had the oddly scaly head of a rooster, and the body of a serpentine dragon. A cockatrice. The mythical creature stood at least two feet above him, holding its black scaly head high, the sun coming through the canopy reflected off its obsidian scales which faded into touches of gold and white near the cockatrice's scaly tail. Its proud, intelligent gaze would have been lethal if Arthur had not been wearing his blindfold.

Arthur quickly scuffled back, wary of the fatal creature that towered over him. He was standing the cockatrice's shadow when it lowered its head, and Arthur jerked; ready to run if the creature was going to attack.

But it did not attack; instead, the cockatrice gave a low bow, its two legs bending gracefully. The blond did nothing, still frozen in place as it rose again to face him, its garnet eyes gazing into his blindfolded ones.

The creature gave another shrill squawk and ruffled its black, slightly transparent, leathery wings. The sorcerer felt another tug in his consciousness, sharper than before, which left Arthur wincing. He stepped back, hesitant, and gave a low but awkward bow. As he rose, he heard the animal whip its tail behind it, and made a small crooning sound, as if it were content. Its proud eyes bore into his blindfold, and Arthur felt a violent, painful stab in his mind and then a snap, as if a string had been broken. He fell on the ground, clutching his pounding head. _What was that?_

The feet of the towering cockatrice shuffled closer, and gently nudged his leg with a pointed talon.

_Kin. You are kin__**?**_ A grating male voice croaked in his head, echoing off the walls of his already aching skull. Arthur scrambled away and over a large root, shocked by the voice in his head.

_Wha-?_

_You are kin. _Arthur grabbed his splitting head again, resisting a shout.

The creature cocked his rooster head sideways, as if in curiosity, and then understanding shone through his eyes. The cockatrice crooned gently and the splitting headache in Arthur's skull was toned down, the voice in his head no longer ringing.

_You are of magic. I sense it. Your eyes can kill with just a glance. You are kin._ The creature strutted forward, his tail slithering behind him.

_You will do._

_I will do for what?_ Arthur asked, getting over his surprise the mental link they shared.

_Follow. I will show you my children._

_Children?_ The cockatrice nodded and motioned for him to follow.

The sorcerer watched as he padded away, but then paused, crooning.

_Follow, now._ The creature's tone more of an order than anything else.

Arthur, admitting he was partly curious and mostly scared, had no choice.

As he stumbled up and brushed his trousers of debris, he followed the magnificent gold and obsidian cockatrice into an unfamiliar part of the woods.

Strange, since he had lived in these very forests for so many decades yet he had never seen these landmarks before. The forest turned from chatty to deathly quiet, as if the trees and animals had sensed them passing by into some fatal part of the forest. The canopy grew thicker, the light from before only barely shining through. Leaving the trees in shadow and the atmosphere bearing darkness. The stale magic that was in the air before, shifted to something more lethal, giving no comfort to the blindfolded man as he was lead deeper into the forest.

Arthur gulped as he stepped over a root; Coracinus knew what he was getting into.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alfred awoke that sunny afternoon to the warm scent of rosemary that seemed to always penetrate the tower. He cracked open his bleary eye to take in his surroundings, but sleepiness closed them and he rolled around in the cot, adjusting his position to sleep some more. He mumbled something unintelligible.

The sound of birds chirping outside was what awoke him next, and he reached out a lazy hand to grab for his glasses that were sitting on top of his bedroom's nightstand—_huh?_ He felt his glasses sitting on his nose. _Where is my nightstand?_

Blue eyes flew open to view unfamiliar surroundings; a stone room, a small cot, windows, a table with strange concoctions—this wasn't his room.

Yesterday's memories flooded his brain, and remembering he was a hostage, he jolted up. Alfred felt a small blanket slip off his chest and pool onto his lap. _A blanket? Wasn't I stuck to the floor yesterday?_ He glanced around the room for a certain stingy sorcerer and found no one. _Where is he?_ _Was he the one who tucked me in on the cot?_ He got out of the bed and jerked in surprise at the cold stone under his bare feet. _Where did my shoes go?…Hell, where did my_ socks_ go?_ He wandered around the room for a little bit, jumping about to keep his feet from touching the cold floor for too long while he searched for his shoes and socks. They were nowhere to be found. Alfred tiptoed over to the kitchen that was connected to the bedroom; perhaps his shoes were in there. The kitchen was a cozy size; a bookshelf lined the wall filled with deteriorating books that had strange symbols Alfred had never seen before. The kitchen had bare minimum in cooking equipment: a small wood-burning stove and stone oven that looked like it went through multiple fires and a couple explosions. A table was set in the middle of the room, with a tea set placed elegantly on the centerfold, another vase of dried roses next to it. _Where does he get all of these roses?_ Alfred doubted that the sorcerer was the kind of man to go out for the purpose of picking flowers.

There were wooden cabinets that were positioned above the stove, and as Alfred, poked around inside, he saw a variety of exotic spices and ingredients. Strangely none of them were rosemary.

His feet getting increasingly chilly, Alfred remembered his purpose of wandering into the kitchen and searched for his shoes to find that they weren't in the kitchen either. Well, Alfred decided, either way, he had to get out of this imprisonment, and find Kiku figuring that he could replace his Guard equipment and weapons when he got back to the Royal Court.

_Kiku, _Alfred apologized in his head,_ I'm sorry._ He would have to say it out loud to his best friend when he saw him again. Pattering over to the door, his bare feet making slapping noises on the stone, he casually tried to open it. Of course, the door was locked. The blond smirked and his blue eyes narrowed behind his frames.

He clenched his fist tightly and allowing his superhuman strength to work its magic, he easily punched a hole through the wooden door.

_Crack! _

"WHAT THE HELL?" An exclamation came from the other side of the door.

_Oh shit. _

"MY DOOR!" The sound of footsteps running closer and closer to the bedroom echoed into Alfred's ears. _Oh shit. Oh shit!_

The Guard jumped back from the door and didn't dare peer through the hole he had just created. _Hide!_ He glanced around the bedroom, frantic, and as the door burst open, he flew into the kitchen and scrambled behind the bookshelf.

A furious, red-faced blond sorcerer charged into the room; his hair disheveled and flying in his face. The cloak he wore on his shoulders was ripped in several places and his clothes were equally in bad condition. It looked like he had a battle with a thorn bush and the bush had won.

"I KNOW YOU'RE HERE YOU BLOODY BASTARD!" He shouted into the room, and quickly glancing around to realize that Alfred wasn't in the bedroom, he stormed over to the kitchen.

Alfred gulped and held his breath. Maybe he wouldn't be found.

Arthur had the largest scowl he'd ever witnessed spread across his face, and as the Alfred eexamined him more carefully, he noticed light scratches that littered his entire body. _What happened to him?_ The thought flitted through his mind briefly.

Arthur yelled into the kitchen as well, "You better get out here right now, you git, or else I will _make_ you come out." _How was he going to do—?_

Alfred felt his body jerk harshly into the bookcase he was hiding behind, some of the deteriorating books falling off the shelves. "Shit," The Guard heard the sorcerer swear as Alfred was still trying to figure out what just happened.

Having no control over his body whatsoever, Alfred's body flung itself onto the stone floor and at the feet of the scowling sorcerer, Arthur's hand poised in a come-hither motion, his magic uncharacteristically behaving.

Arthur stared down at the man sprawled on the floor, his expression darkening as Alfred's stared up, wide-eyed.

"Why, tell me, did you _punch a hole through my door?_"

Alfred stared at the blindfolded man above him, blinking. Slowly, his frightened expression morphed into an attempted placating smile.

Arthur glared more.

Xxxxxxxxx

Leader Gilbert strode through the halls, his lightweight armor clinking together as he moved. The required scribe he brought along for the meeting, as ordered by the Royal Court, brushed voluminous her hair behind her and pouted her lips to make sure they were perfectly kissable.

Gilbert just rolled his eyes at the woman who almost tripped off her high-heeled boots as she tried to keep up with his pace. As the albino Leader walked past a room, he heard someone giggle in a low pitch that sent a chill down his spine. _Probably some kid_, Gilbert reasoned, trying to shrug off his unexpected shiver but as he was about to make his way around the corner and into the majestic entrance of the Royal Throne, he heard something disturbing.

"Hehe, I'm so excited! I'll be able to kill him soon!" _What?_ Gilbert backtracked, his scribe stumbling behind him and almost tripping. The albino motioned for the flirty woman stay quiet and he snuck closer to the closed door.

The scribe looked at him curiously, and was about to ask what he was doing, but Gilbert quickly covered her mouth and scowled at the woman who ignored his orders. Pressing an ear to the door, he strained his hearing.

"Yes Ivan, but remember I need him to... " Gilbert had trouble distinguishing the second person's voice as it trailed off into a mumble, yet it sounded familiar. Some kind of shuffling went on inside the room, but then ceased after a few seconds.

"But we did have a deal, da?"

"Indeed, if all goes well you can have him. But I need him first."

There was a slight pause, and Gilbert suppressed a chill down his spine when he heard the response.

"I can do whatever it takes to acquire him, da?"

_Who?_ Gilbert furrowed his brows, and after glancing to the scribe to make sure she would be quiet, he slowly took his hand off the her mouth, grimacing at the residue of covering, white powder that was from her face.

"Just keep him alive...and…his…" The familiar voice was muffled and Gilbert pressed his ear more fervently to the door. He realized there was no sound in the room. _What is going on—?_

He felt the door suddenly creak open and he jumped back and to the side, plastering himself to the wall, pulling the scribe, who did her best not to squeak, along with him.

As a man with platinum blond hair and glowing violet eyes stepped out of the room, Gilbert's shoulders were suddenly grabbed and the flirty scribe bent down to press his lips to hers. His ruby eyes widening as the woman attempted to continue the kiss, but he did nothing to accept her advances. His shock turning to disgust, he pushed her away and wiped his mouth, the scribe making a squeaking sound.

The Leader glared at the woman he had pushed aside, and then turned to examine the man that had been watching them. He wore a pure white scarf and a long, heavy overcoat. Gilbert had to wonder how he wasn't hot during a summer day like today. He saw the strange man smile at him and then Gilbert heard the other person in the room talk.

"Ivan? What is it?"

The albino's eyes widened, he recognized that voice, it was—

"No one, my King, just a little mouse." The man before him smirked maliciously at Gilbert as the Leader stood frozen. His eyes widened, _why is he covering for me?_

Ivan's smirk turned into an innocent, childish smile and he turned back into the room, making sure to close the door so that the King wouldn't walk out or see Gilbert in the hall, listening in.

"Now, my Majesty, we were discussing the assassination?" The next words muffled by the closed door.

Gilbert reached to his chest to stop it from pounding out of his body, but scowled when the flirty scribe latched desperately onto his shirt. Luckily it seemed that she hadn't recognized the King's voice or anything that was going on.

Gilbert pried off the woman clutched to his chest, her eyes wide as he handled her by the shoulders, gripping into them. She winced at the strength behind the grip and was about to speak, her eyelashes mid-flutter but he covered her mouth and he dragged them around the corner to face the carved doorways that lead to the Royal Throne, her heels clicking as she stumbled across the tiled floor.

"What is your _problem_?" The scribe shrieked at him. She tossed her locks behind her, furious about his blatant refusal. No one reject her. No one.

Gilbert stood unfazed as she poked a painted talon at his chest.

He reached out and grabbed it, clenching it hard. She winced at his defined strength.

"You are definitely not awesome."

Her face turned an ugly shade of red. Before she could say anything else, Gilbert threw her hand away and pierced her with his blood red eyes. "I'm sure that you've heard, I only go out with those as awesome as I am; So, I am so sorry to disappoint," the last statement dripping with sarcasm.

"Then why did you _kiss _me?"

"It was the other way around." Gilbert responded, "Perhaps I should have asked one of the servants to be a scribe instead," he muttered to the side, loud enough for her to hear.

She glared, her anger at its peak, she drew her hand back to slap him at full strength, but he stepped back and the momentum twisted her off to the side, swiping and losing her balance. She fell to the floor, her hair covering her face as she sat, furious.

"Heh, that was so unawesome." Gilbert snickered, looking to see if she was all right. Despite her attitude, Ludwig would probably kill him for treating anyone without "proper respect."

"You alright?"

She let out a feral shriek in her rage, reaching out to drag him to the floor with her. As Gilbert moved back to avoid her strangely animalistic attack, he bumped into a silk clad chest.

"Gilbert, typical." The albino turned behind him to see the scowling Head Advisor.

A grin spread across Gilbert's face.

"Roddy!"

* * *

**AN: yes, I realize that the chapter title is extremely lame... but what can you do? In other news, the next chapter is going to be great!**

**To clear things up:**

**Arthur's magic is primarily destructive, over the decades he's learned to kind of control it (sometimes), but not as well as he'd like.**

**Remember to Review!**

**-Petaldancer  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**UGHHHH. I've been gone for so long! I'm so sorry everyone! I've been on hiatus since I sprained most of my foot and had APs right after. But now it's the summer and I'm finally done with high school! Woot! So here is the next chapter!**

**Hope you all forgive me! and Enjoy!**

* * *

Previously:

"_You all right?" his voice was nonchalant. _

_She turned around and letting out a feral shriek, reached out to drag him to the floor. As Gilbert moved back to avoid her strangely animalistic attack, he bumped into someone who instantly scoffed at him. _

"_Gilbert, typical." The albino turned to see the scowling Head Advisor. _

"_Roddy!"_

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Not Just "Someone"**

The shorter man before him frowned more and peered around Gilbert's frame to see the still furious girl struggling to her still high-heeled feet. Roderich, being a noble aristocrat stepped around Gilbert and offered a gloved hand.

"My lady, please forgive Gilbert's… rudeness. I can assure you that he should know much better." He refused to allow an eyebrow to twitch when her furious scowl morphed into a sly, sugary smile. She placed her hand into his with a dainty flick and gave a flirty flutter of her eyelashes.

"Oh! You're such a _gentleman_. Unlike that brute over there."

As she rose, she tried to place her hands on his shoulders but he backed away immediately.

"I am sorry milady, but I am already taken by another." Her façade didn't waver, she had dealt with these kinds of _stubborn _men before.

"Who could possibly," as she attempted to caress his cheek but he subtly stepped away from her hand, but she ignored it, "belong with someone as intelligent, and high-ranked as you?"

"The awesome me, of course."

Her mouth dropped in a gape while Roderich's face lit up in a bright red and he spun to face the grinning Leader.

"Can you not announce that so publically to everyone? You already tarnish my reputation far enough with your rude behavior and your brutish _eating_ habits! You spend too much money on fleeting, worthless objects. You fight like a mad man with absolutely no grace, plus you rip all of your clothes all the time, and I have to set aside time to sew them up again, and you always let Elizaveta sketch pictures of-of us k-kissing…!and you always have to—"

"Alright, alright Roddy—"

"My proper name is Roderich—!"

"Roddy," he moved to hug the fuming, blushing aristocrat, "calm down." The Advisor took a couple deep breaths to gain back his composure, breathing in Gilbert's spicy scent.

"It's your fault." A mumble came from Gilbert's shoulder.

"Yes yes, now we have to…" He trailed off, suddenly remembering what he had seen in the room and the stranger with the ominous aura. _How did I forget?_ He slapped himself mentally, "we have to…. Talk! Yup, we need to talk." He dragged the stumbling Head Advisor after him by the hand and away from the Royal Throne's doors and away from the scribe still gaping after them.

"Talk? About what exactly?" The brunet adjusted his glasses according and tried to fix the wrinkles in his robes.

"Roderich, you can't let anyone know about this," the Advisor's eyes widened, Gilbert only used his full name when he was serious, "I think that the King is planning some sort of assassination."

"Assassination? Of who?"

"I'm not sure yet, but he's up to nothing good."

He then told the Head Advisor about the strange man he saw that was discussing business with the King.

"What do you think, Roddy?"

The aristocrat frowned in thought, troubled by the description of the man, he sounded vaguely like the person Francis told him about.

"This person sounds like someone that Francis told me about. If he is this person, then we should go to the kitchens and ask that pervert, despite his…sexual tendencies," The Advisor had to resist from shuddering at the memory of the perverted man from Sinistra, "he does know a lot about Merulae from his previous adventures."

Gilbert grinned at his lover's reactions, "Aw, come on Roddy, Francis isn't _that_ bad." He snickered at his best friend's tendencies, although he did try to avoid the cook's advances as much as the next sane person.

"But first, Gilbert, we have to go to the meeting, you and I are already late and we keep the Royalty waiting." The albino scowled at the prospect of a meeting, and they entered into the Royal Throne room.

The hall was large, the ceiling hung high above their heads and numerous crystal chandeliers were strategically placed to create majestic lighting if it were night. The hall was decorated with giant red tapestries and gold trimmings, the floor tiled in white marble, and the Royal Guard stood at attention in their formal suits on each side of the row of crystal cylinders that lead to the thrown. Crystal balls floated above the cylinders with magic and water coated them, seeming to materialize from the balls themselves and trickle into the column, the water disappearing the moment it touched the cylinder base.

The thrones themselves had been positioned so that the King's golden throne was larger and centered in the middle, while the Queen had a slightly smaller throne that was silver and placed to the right.

Only the Queen, however, was present at her throne. Ludwig and Antonio stood calmly before her. Antonio dressed in his formal uniform, his red and gold uniform tailored to his own body. The giant axe he used as his favorite weapon was held loosely, and the happy Leader turned to greet them, Ludwig scowled and his grip on his whip tightened when he saw Gilbert smirking at his irritation for their lateness.

"Why are you late?" Ludwig resisted barking his irritation, instead settled for a cold icy tone.

"Kesese, Luddy, you need to calm down every once in a while." He set a hand on his younger brother's shoulder.

"Hey Gil! How are you doing? Where's Gilbird?" Antonio greeted him.

"Hey Tonio, Gilbird is out to find himself a lady."

"Ahaha, your bird has gets more action than—"

"At least Roddy is willing, unlike your fiery tomato—"

"We are in the presence of the _Queen_, Antonio." Ludwig interrupted, afraid of where this conversation was heading. In second thought, he added, "Where is your scribe anyways?"

"Tch, I don't need one." Gilbert grinned at Ludwig's frustrated expression.

Roderich chose to stay silent, still pondering the actions of the King and Ivan.

"Gentlemen, my dear knights, and of course, kind Roderich." A gentle voice floated over them, silencing the chaos despite her quiet voice. The men quieted down as the Queen smiled at them, her long chestnut hair framing her face and hazel eyes gazed down at them. She swept a flowing sleeve to motion them to approach her.

"I trust that you have been doing well with your troops?" She nodded towards the men as Roderich took his side near the Queen's throne as Head Advisor. Each of them bowed, "Yes my Queen."

She waved them to stand, and glanced at the entrance, the large doors were still open.

"Close those for me, will you?" Some of the lower ranking Guard shut the doors, the sound echoing through the halls. Antonio glanced at the Queen, seeing her troubled expression, he spoke his concern, "What is wrong, my Queen?"

"How insightful of you Antonio, you're never this insightful." Her voice humorous; Gilbert chuckled to himself at the side, covering it with a polite cough when the Queen moved her gaze to him.

She gazed at her loyal soldiers, her expression turning serious.

"I am sure that you all remember the Great War from twelve years ago." The men before her nodded and she continued, "there is something that you must all know about the war I have never dared to tell you." Roderich's eyebrows furrowed and his head snapped to his Queen.

"There is more than what I am aware of…?" He trailed off when he noticed that the Queen was going to continue.

"Indeed, kind Roderich. You are a great friend to the King, and I'm sure he must have shared with you his plans from the past. How our great kingdom of Merulae came to be so powerful."

"Kiku," Ludwig snapped his attention to the Queen, his eyes narrowed.

"Yes," Her Majesty's voice as strong as they had ever heard her, despite their knowledge of her weakening body.

"I am about to tell you something, my knights, that you must never tell anyone else in fear of your life. Never mention this to the King."

They nodded, mentally preparing themselves for her tale.

But as she was about to speak, they heard the oak doors of the Throne Room open, and the King himself swept inside.

"Ah! My Royal Guard! It's so good to see you! We have much to discuss." He was clad in crimson and gold, the highly decorated crown sat upon his graying head although his wife was ten years younger.

"All hail the King!" The chant echoed through the magnificent hallways, the trio of Guards stood at abrupt attention. Gilbert's eyes narrowing as the King sat on his throne, but he forced his facial expression to be null.

"I am sorry, my Guard, that I am so late! I had business to take care of." The King's voice was jovial, but all three Guards noticed his Queen had scooted a little further away from him as he sat.

"Roderich! My good friend, how are you doing?"

"I am doing fine, my King." Roderich's face was kept neutral, he smiled politely to the king and did not react to his friendly pat.

"Ah, Roderich, you know you can call me Alexander. Back when we were in the academy and I was merely your professor, you did so all the time. Although it did take me your first year there to finally get you to call me by my actual name instead of 'Prince'." The Head Advisor smiled at him, "Yes, your Majesty, but you were not the King of Merulae then, you were one of the Princes, and I still called you Prince Alexander, or your Majesty."

"Bah, details Roderich, details." The King waved a hand at his friend, and then glanced at the Royal Guards still bowing below him.

"Oh, forgive me my Guards, please rise." The three men below them rose, Antonio beaming his usual smile.

"Now, the reason why we are meeting is because of the relations with Shung..."

* * *

After the meeting, Antonio had to prepare his troops for their upcoming mission overseas and to Shung. The Emperor in Shung had been conflicting with them for the past few years, and it seemed that they had been shooting down some of the merchant ships from Merulae. Antonio was to prepare his navy to go across the ocean and see if they could discuss some sort of peace treaty.

Ludwig said that he had to meet Father Feliciano about something important, and after Gilbert had been smacked in the back of the head for teasing him about being a lost puppy, Ludwig had left in what seemed to be a hurry.

It was after the meeting that Roderich and Gilbert decided to go to the kitchens and see if they could talk to Francis.

When they came down to the kitchens, they could hear swearing and a lot of pots crashing onto the floor.

"Stay the hell away from me you bastard!"

"You look so delicious today Lovino! Let big brother eat you up!"

"Hell no!" Gilbert ducked as a pan soared his way. Roderich just rubbed his temples.

The priest ran behind Roderich, swearing at the Head Cook to stay away as the bearded man, his hair tied back and a white, _frilly_, apron over his tunic crept towards them.

"Oh, hello good friends!" He reached over for a hug but his face met Roderich's fist.

"I still haven't forgiven you for your unsightly advances from yesterday."

The cook rubbed his nose pleasantly, glad that at least it wasn't broken, "Ah yes," he chuckled and then he saw Lovino flee from the kitchens, his curl bouncing as he sprinted away. Man could those holy brothers run.

"Come in," he smiled charmingly.

Gilbert still snickering at his friend's blatant rejection, Francis motioned them to sit as he picked up a plate of some fresh pastries he had made for dessert. The lemon glazing on them still hadn't hardened, but Francis shrugged, figuring they were still good. As he grabbed some plates from one of the cabinets, he motioned for the rest of the chefs to take a break and get some lunch.

"I've been trying this new recipe for scones, tell me what you think." Gilbert's eyes lit up, always in the mood to eat Francis' new recipes. He took one off the top pastry and took a bite out of it, letting the still hot glaze drip onto his plate.

Gilbert made a noise in appreciation and licked his lips of white glaze, which made Roderich blush bright red. Taking a delicate bite of his scone, Roderich tried to cover his unseemly behavior, but Francis took note of it anyways and sent a wink to Gilbert who smirked back. Seeing their interaction, Roderich swallowed his bite without really tasting the scone and he started the conversation, trying to break their thoughts.

"Francis, we want to discuss something very important with you, I would hope that you plan to keep this as quiet as possible. " The Head Chef's expression turned from flirty to serious, he glanced at his kitchens and the rest of the chefs and then motioned for them to stand so that they could go somewhere a little more private. They pushed in their chairs and Gilbert quickly wolfed down his scone, walking with them

"Follow me," he led them into the large ingredient storage location, past the meat locker, and into the room that held the flour and wheat for bread. "What is it, Sirs?" He leaned against a sack of flour and gazed at the two lovers before him.

Gilbert glanced at Roderich and then started on his tale once again.

When he got to his description of the strange violet-eyed man, Francis hissed out, "Ivan." His blue eyes narrowed and Gilbert cocked a head curiously. Roderich gazed on, waiting for Francis to explain his reaction.

"Ivan is bad news, I thought he had gone into hiding, but I thought wrong." He turned his gaze to his albino friend and spoke with urgency that left the lovers surprised, "I'm going to tell you a story that you've all probably heard before," a smirk playing on his lips left them curious, "After I tell you this, Gilbert, I need you to go and get someone that we can trust. Someone I happen to know very well."

The albino Leader narrowed his eyes, "Who is this someone?" Roderich crossed his arms at the Chef before them, his eyes also narrowing.

The man chuckled almost fondly, and he stared into the distance, a look they recognized whenever he was reminiscing about his past.

"He's not just a 'someone', I can tell you that."

* * *

"You tried to escape by punching a _hole_ through my door?"

Alfred was once again stuck to the floor, staring up at the irritated sorcerer.

"It was a good idea." He exclaimed, trying to defend his brilliance. _Why doesn't he just lock me up instead?_ He thought, curious.

"Why, inform me, did you not use the window?" Arthur looked down at the Guard below him, sounding exasperated at the other blond's convergent thinking and his own mistake of not locking it in the first place.

"Oh." Alfred's cheeks turned red.

"Oh, indeed." It seemed to the Guard that Arthur had calmed down a bit, although his appearance left him wondering what he was doing that morning.

"So… why are you all scratched up? You look like you fought a thorn bush and lost." That earned a kick at his leg. _Ow._

"That is none of your business," he tried to pat down his disheveled hair, but his hands did nothing but make it worse, "now that we've established that leaving you the tower is a horrible decision, you'll be coming along with me so I can monitor you." Arthur scowled at the words coming out of his mouth, _what is wrong with me? Why can't I just lock him up in the dungeon with the rest of those filthy Serviants?_ He shook his head to clear his mind, and his permanent scowl deepened when he unstuck the Guard lying on the floor.

"Don't try anything idiotic, I can kill you at any time if you dare take a step out of line."

Alfred couldn't stop the nagging question in his brain from spilling out of his mouth.

"Then why haven't you already killed me?" Arthur's stare turned dark and Alfred fought the urge to scramble away. He really shouldn't have said anything, but questions flew from his lips as if he had no control, his curiosity taking hold.

"Why do you treat me like some kind of guest when I'm a hostage? Why do you let me run around your tower? Why did you put me on your cot and cover me with a blanket when you obviously…dislike me?" His last question had some hesitancy for reasons he couldn't understand. The dark look on the sorcerer's face didn't vanish, but increased, something terrifying crossed his face, yet Alfred couldn't distinguish what it was, the blindfold nullifying Arthur's expressions.

"I—" Arthur started, but then suddenly he shut his mouth, the dark expression lingered, but the sorcerer did nothing but turn away, walking out of the kitchen and to the bedroom; leaving the bewildered Guard to sit on the floor of his kitchen.

Arthur sat on his cot, his head in his hands, confused. _I don't understand_.

He carded fingers through his messy blond hair, picking out snags here and there in a frustrated motion. _I don't understand how he's so different. What is wrong with me?_

He glanced at the hole still present in the wooden door and struggled to squash his anger, his magic starting to perfume the air, surrounding him comfortingly.

Footsteps came into the room, and stopped near him. He heard the creak of the broken door, and a whistle. Arthur lifted his head in surprise, seeing the blond Guard grinning at the hole in the door.

"I did quite some damage didn't I?" Arthur scowled, _He has some gall, that bloody idiot, sounding so proud—_ "This is going to take me at least an hour to fix!"

_What?_

"Why aren't you trying to escape you naïve idiot?" A hesitant smile etched on Alfred's face, and the next words that spilled from his mouth made no sense at all.

"I'll just do that after I fix your door." Arthur stared at the incredibly dense man, unable to understand his logic. He couldn't stop himself from asking:

"How the hell are you going to escape after that?"

"Oh, I'll just use the window next time." Alfred laughed loudly at the sorcerer's gaping face. _I…want to get to know this man. P-plus, this is information gathering as well! I mean—he definitely knows something about those orphaned children he takes care of, at least. He probably knows what's wrong with the city as well._ The Guard thought to himself, proud of his idea. _Sorry Kiku, I'll have to meet up with you later._

"What kind of hostage are you?" The sorcerer sputtered, finally out of his stupor. Alfred grinned at that question and Arthur began to groan, realizing he was going to get an idiotic answer. He winced as he began to feel the ache of the scratches that littered his person.

"I'm a HERO!"

Arthur placed his head back into his hands and sighed.

* * *

**I just realized how short this chapter is compared to my other chapters. Ah, I feel so disappointed in myself for such a lame chapter, but this is necessary to keep the plot going!**

**Please review, review, review! It keeps the motivation going!**

**Love you all!**

**Petaldancer**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Hey everyone! Finally got this chapter up! Sorry for all of the delays, but I'm sure all you fangirls out there will enjoy this one...**

**Have fun!**

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Burgers And Magic**

The hammer pounding on his bedroom door had finally ceased. Arthur sighed as he let his head flop back onto the edge of the tub he was soaking in. The blindfold still tied around his head, since he had company in the tower. The blond sorcerer made sure to reinforce his barriers on the bedroom door _and_ the windows just incase Alfred actually decided to escape. Yet Arthur couldn't understand why he was being so lenient to his _captive_ for Coracinus' sake. He closed his eyes, the questions that Alfred had asked still ringing in his ears. He didn't understand at all, why he was being so illogical. When he tried to bring himself to lock the Guard up, he could do nothing but that, lock him up. A strange pang of an indefinable emotion rose in his chest whenever he thought of perhaps just killing the boy.

Arthur sighed at his confusion, disappointed at his lack of wisdom in something that seemed so simple. _What was living for 200 years for if I can't even figure out a blond, brash, and loud Guard like him?_ The man was naïve, there was no denying that. He blatantly _attempted_ to save his life, a wretched, rather undeserving soul like him.

A splashing sound was heard as Arthur dunked himself in the cooling water, his blindfold staying dry because of the enchantments surrounding it; He tried to prevent self-pitying thoughts from forming. _You are repenting for your sins, Arthur, old boy. Repenting is all that is required._ He lectured himself for getting caught up in a depression that was too old for his own good. _Heh, I really am an old man._ But as he continued to ponder, his thoughts strayed back to Alfred, and those strikingly blue eyes.

'_I'll take care of your door,' he says,_ Arthur scoffed in his mind. _He's the one who broke my door in the first place. _Coracinus knows why Alfred hadn't tried to escape. Perhaps it was for the same unknown reason Arthur had been so lenient?_ Whatever…_ The sorcerer thought to himself, and decided to get up, frowning at his pruned fingers.

He stepped over the edge of the bath, and reached for a towel. He did not expect the door to suddenly slam open.

"Hey Old Man! I fixed your…" Alfred trailed off, his eyes wide as he took in the sight before him. The sorcerer stood in full view, nude, water droplets trailing off his surprisingly lean, pale, and toned body, the silk black ends of the man's blindfold hanging over his shoulders and tied to wet blond locks. It turned out that much of his body was littered with scrapes, and a few healing bruises here and there; some old, some quite fresh. There was an old, long scar that trailed from his hand up his arm and ended at his shoulder. A wicked winged tattoo curled itself on the right side of his waist… Alfred couldn't resist staring at the man before him.

They acted at once, both flushing bright red. "What the hell!" Arthur quickly shouted snatching the towel he was reaching for to cover below his waist. The shout seemed to snap Alfred out of his stupor; he scrambled back, stuttering, "S-sorry!" and slammed the door shut.

Alfred's back slammed into the stone walls, feeling his heart trying to pound out of his chest.

When Alfred had tried the bedroom door to see if he could actually open it with the barriers he _knew_ Arthur had placed on it to prevent him from escaping, he didn't expect it to suddenly unlock itself. Alfred grinned at the prospect of the fixed and functional door, brushing away the thought that he should escape while he had the chance. He still had to figure out Sinistra's problem with the orphans, he reasoned with himself. Alfred had been exploring the level of the small tower he was in, turned out that he was on the second level. When he heard the sound of splashing coming from the room down the hallway, he had walked up to the door, curious as to what the room was. Probably a bathroom, he had half-reasoned. But it seemed that today was the day his brain wasn't working as well as he hoped, for when he heard the cranky sorcerer mumbling something from within the room, he had naïvely slammed the door open to be greeted with the shockingly sexy—er, horrifying image of sorcerer's toned body.

He smacked his head against the wall, and then yelped, forgetting the bandages wrapped around his skull that covered his wound from their fight previously. The pain made him momentarily forget about the image of the grumpy sorcerer and another ache made itself known. His stomach grumbled loudly. Loud enough that he could hear a low chuckle coming from inside the bathroom. His cheeks dusted red, but he willed down his embarrassment as he sat outside the door waiting for Arthur to come out. _Why am I sitting here anyway? I'm no pervert, like Francis_. He couldn't resist the urge to stick a tongue out at the imaginary image of Francis blowing a kiss his way.

Arthur was greeted by his antics as he walked out clad, strangely, in a Shungese robe. The sorcerer raised an eyebrow as he watched Alfred quickly suck his tongue back in his mouth, blushing.

"So I take it that you're hungry?" Arthur started, red dusting his cheeks as well as he passed the Guard still leaning against the wall. He made no mention of the just passing incident, so Alfred didn't as well, choosing to nod and start up a conversation as they headed towards the bedroom side-by-side.

"Old man?" The sorcerer cocked his head as they walked, showing that he was listening, he was used to that name from the children calling him that. "I fixed the door I punched a hole through," He started, cursing himself for his awkward conversation starter.

"Ah, I know that already from the first time you decided to…_tell _me." The emphasis on "tell" played on Alfred's ears and he turned red once more. An awkward pause and suddenly Arthur stopped, causing Alfred to take a few steps forward before noticing his cease of movement.

"How did you get out of the bedroom, Alfred?"

"Oh, if you want to know, I _didn't_ punch a hole through it."

"I would have heard that, so yes."

"Oh, right." Alfred itched his head, trying to get under the bandages but then stopped when he saw Arthur glaring at his scratching hand, clearly telling him to stop irritating the wound, "well it just unlocked itself." Arthur scowled to himself, there was no way that would happen. He rushed forward to check the bedroom door as they reached it, and when he was proven wrong by the absence of his barrier, his scowl turned more frustrated. What was wrong with his magic lately? Normally his magic was quite destructive, but recently, it had started to act more…playful than usual. Really, it was if it had a mind of its own sometimes. He flicked his magic to test his control and the door swung open neatly. He heard an excited gasp beside him as he allowed a smirk to play on his lips, commanding his rosemary scented magic with ease to float the plates and some of his freshly baked scones on the table; the eating utensils levitating themselves to the table, and cabinets opening on their own. Arthur turned to an ecstatic Guard. His blue eyes shone brightly and he was acting almost like a kid with a new toy. Arthur laughed mentally as his magic provided the clear image of Alfred watching a cup twirl itself in the air and do a little summersault following the gesture of Arthur's finger. The Guard was so easily amused with magic. The blindfolded man smirked at the still gaping Alfred and he walked into the kitchen, the floating items placing themselves neatly onto the clothed table. The playful, pleasant atmosphere was broken, however, when Alfred plopped down into his seat and pointed rudely at one of his scones.

"What is that?" His head snapped to the Guard, glaring at him.

"What do you mean by 'what is that?' It's a scone! Made by myself." Alfred had the nerve to poke at the blackish lump that had settled itself on his plate.

"Don't play with your food," he growled, grabbing a scone for himself and some jam to spread onto his homemade pastry.

"Are you sure it's food?"

"Yes!" He slammed the jar of jam with force, causing the small table to shake.

Alfred glanced at the 'food' cautiously, well generally he could stomach most things; he had even survived some of the worst food poisonings when Francis's food went amok (although that rarely happened). He gave a mental shrug as he picked up the black lump and took a bite out of it.

He spit it out immediately, the chunk flying across the small table and hitting the vase holding the dried roses. The resilient piece of scone bounced hardily off the vase and bounced a little on the floor.

"It's not that bad!" Arthur stood up; already ready to defend his cooking. He was used to this kind of reaction, but by Coracinus, he couldn't understand why everyone thought his cooking was so atrocious as they acted. "Have some manners at least and swallow it!" He pounded a fist on the table and winced slightly from his still sore, healed hand. He cradled it slightly, forgetting his anger to deal with his pain.

Alfred stood up, concerned. Remembering he was the one that caused that wound, he found himself reaching towards the sorcerer, his hand outstretched. It was then that Arthur's robe slipped slightly, and Alfred got a glimpse of his chest, littered with more scars that reminded him of the image freshly imprinted in his mind from minutes before. Arthur chose this moment to look up and saw the Guard staring at his scarred chest, he blushed, odd since he was never this self-conscious about his body, and backed away slightly, only to back into the chair and he fell into it with an "oof." Arthur avoided the embarrassed gaze of the Guard, and he wondered fleetingly why he was so easily angered by this soldier when he had spent years of solitude and then having to deal with…._him._ He shuddered for reasons totally unrelated to the Guard living in his tower. There was no way that Arthur would ever compare Alfred to _that man_.

Arthur glanced up, suddenly remembering the leftovers he had from his guest's last visit. He got up, getting the attention of Alfred sitting in his chair, strangely quiet and… was he blushing? Arthur cocked a head, half-curious and then walked to his cabinets, searching for the strange modern food his guest had brought over last time.

"The kids seems to love it these days," _he_ had said. Well, if that were true then maybe his gue—er, hostage, would like them as well. He pulled out the food, magically preserved, and presented it to his guest. As Alfred's eyes widened, he had to wonder what was so great about this new food, what did they call it? A hamburger? He stared at the plain sandwich and the grilled, finely diced meat that made up the "patty." Really, he thought they weren't that amazing, it certainly did not look like it received the shimmering stars he could practically _see_ in Alfred's sky blue eyes.

"Hamburger?" The Guard suddenly dived towards him, completely throwing off his previous bashfulness. Some part in Arthur's mind preferred him blushing, but for the love of Coracinus, Arthur scowled at this part and pushed it away. More focused at the man that literally had just dove over the table and landed at his feet just to drool at the sandwich in his hands.

"Here, I had some left from…" Arthur trailed off, deciding not to mention his last guest to Alfred in case he knew him. The naïve warrior took no notice as he snatched the hamburger from his hands and beamed at the sorcerer so blindingly Arthur would have thought the bloody _sun_ was smiling at him.

"Thank you!" He felt something warm fill his chest, and he stumbled back slightly, not understanding what was going on. He just nodded and watched with slight disgust as the man before him inhaled the burger with gusto.

"Hell, you eat that thing too quickly." He commented, recovering from his stunned behavior.

"Mnrphm?" He tried to speak with his mouth full; Arthur just looked away with a grimace.

"Do _not_ talk with your mouth full, bloody fool." The Guard nodded happily and continued to chew.

"You act like a content cat when you eat these things, are they really that great?" Alfred opened his mouth to speak again, but stopped when he saw Arthur wince at his mouthful of food. Swallowing, the Guard exclaimed, as if he were a religious fanatic of Coracinus rather than a burger.

"You don't understand how awesome this is?" He yelled, amazed at Arthur's ignorance. "Here! Try it!" He rudely pulled out another burger from Arthur's cabinet without permission, and the man before him scowled when Alfred smiled a silent apology before brushing off the sorcerer's anger and shoving the burger in his face. The blindfolded man snatched the burger from his hand and unwrapped it slowly, wincing at the far too excited Guard before him.

Taking a bite, his thick eyebrows rose in surprise, it was actually pretty good.

"This is…" he hesitated, his magic seeing Alfred grin even wider, "alright." He finished lamely, but the blond Guard wasn't swayed by his lackluster response.

"Isn't it awesome?" he started to blabber on as Arthur snuck another bite of the hamburger in his hands when the Guard wasn't looking, there was no way that Arthur would boost Alfred's already inflated ego.

"This actually tastes a lot like the ones that Francis makes." He heard a noise coming from Arthur, but didn't make much of it as Alfred continued to praise his favorite food. The gentleman chewed his food at a slower rate, half-listening to the Guard as he ate the food.

He wondered, just briefly, how the orphans were doing.

* * *

It was suspicious; everything was very suspicious. Kiku wondered why the Royal Court did nothing to investigate Sinistra's hatred for orphans before.

He stood in the grand library that Sinistra held, thick old tomes piled on top of each other covered him as if the dusty books had imprisoned him. The books were filled with fairy tales, history, diaries, and anything that mentioned Sinistra's past.

He stared at another diary, its pages conveniently torn right before it spoke about a horrid sorcerer that ravaged their town.

He sighed, placing the book on one of the precarious stacks standing around him, the dust forming a cloud and he rubbed his nose, irritated.

Again and again, the Legend of Sinistra was retold, yet Kiku could find neither personal accounts nor anything that told the story in great detail.

He flipped through another book half-heartedly, not expecting anything as he watched the old pages blur past.

_Wait_. Kiku paused; he frantically turned back the pages, the tan colored paper smudged here and there with ink, the sound of paper crinkling in on itself.

Here. It was here.

_He's a monster, a horrid monster. _

_The neighboring hut was chosen for the annual Umbreus ceremony. Little Mary looked so excited when she was told that she was going to be the guest of honor, her precious blond head and hazel eyes dressed in all white. A beautiful angel. She was so excited for the ceremony, and her parents—her parents were so proud. _

_Angelo Arthur, they called him… that beast doesn't deserve a name! _

_Mary's parents, Samuel and Molly, had invited me to their home that night. It was snowing rather hard, so I wore my heavier leather boots. When I arrived, the hut seemed incredibly silent. By now, Molly should have lit the ceremonial candles, Samuel should have brought out the alcohol, and presented the white robe little Mary would wear—It should have been a raucous celebration. But that night, it had been quiet, as if sound itself had been muted. _

_I was cautious when I stepped through the snow, something felt horribly wrong._

_When I opened the door, I found—_

The ink was smeared here, blots of black bled through the next couple of words and Kiku cursed as he squinted, trying to make sense of what was left. He caught a few words, trying to distinguish the blobs from the letters. After a few moments, the Shungese man decided to read the rest of the entry after the smear.

—_Mary had gone missing, the ceremony was only in a few hours, the hut was silent, so I searched for the family in the back of the hut. What I found I still see in my nightmares: _

_Blood pooling into the snow, two bodies hung. Samuel and Molly; impaled by the branches of the trees. Their intestines hung out of their stomachs, faces twisted in uncontrollable agony. Their eyes rolled to the back of their heads so all that was left was the whites of their eyes. _

_Bits of their skin had been peeled back, skinned. The red flesh underneath revealed._

_I immediately vomited. I still cannot get the image to depart my mind. It lingers in the forefront of my imagination, their expressions staring down at me, haunting me. _

Kiku placed the diary down, closing his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he collected himself, resisting the urge to do the same as the narrator once did, the bile rising to his throat. He took another deep breath, and the swordsman steeled himself. He continued to read.

_When I had finished purging, I averted my eyes and turned to go back into the hut, tell the others, get their bodies down. But I heard a rustle, and some strange strangled sound, and when I turned to face the bodies again, I saw him. A man in a black, tattered cloak, darkened even further by the blood that dripped from his clothing, into the pure snow below. He was turned to the side, holding some old book with strange writing on the binding; the hood of the cloak obscured his face, but I remember. I remember so well: his gleaming golden hair, highlighted by the moon. His other hand holding Mary's, her blond locks loose around her shoulders, a small smile on her face. But her beautiful hazel eyes were vacant, unseeing, as if she had lost her soul. _

_The man let go of her hand, and muttered something I couldn't hear; yet I saw his lips move. He glided back into the forest, into the shadows. I tried to charge after him. Kill him. I remember screaming as I ran at him. I tried to do something, anything. But before I could reach his retreating shadow, there was some sort of explosion, and the bodies of Mary's parents caught on fire. I had whipped my head around to the burning corpses, and by the time I turned back to the forest, the man was gone, and Mary still stood, the smile still on her face. _

Kiku stared at the torn diary in his hands, eyes wide in horror. He gripped the pages and taking a deep breath, he calmed himself from the images in his head.

_This horrid tale…_ Kiku looked up, the sunset pouring into his old, dusty corner. As he flipped through the paper, his fingers stopped at some of the torn parts of the diary. The edges frayed and seemingly ripped off in a hurry. He stopped, noticing something strange. _Why would they take out the actual historical accounts of such an act? Wouldn't these kinds of stories be crucial to the history of Sinistra? _

Kiku's brows furrowed, and he flipped back to the man's account. "_The neighboring hut was chosen for the annual Umbreus ceremony…" _

"The Umbreus Ceremony?" He voiced aloud, and leaned closer to the book to reread the smudged writing.

A large explosion sounded from outside, shaking the library and Kiku with it. Dust fell from the ceiling, powdering his hair as Kiku coughed. Shaking his head of debris, he heard a distinct shout, "All Serviants report to duty! Capture a man with longish brown hair, of Cherbian ethnicity, blue eyes, wearing a green military uniform!"

Bells were rung outside, warning the rest of the force to be alert for the man. "He should be carrying a red bundle, make sure he does not get away with it!"

The sound of footsteps pounding on the cobblestoned road echoed into the library through the windows. Brushing off some dust, Kiku made his way out of the library, sneaking the torn diary into his bag as he walked among the shelves.

He opened the door, stepping over a fallen stack of books, when a man ran straight into him.

"Oof!" He felt the air rush out of him, but he caught the desperate looking man.

Kiku noted the man's features, long brown hair, with Cherbian ethnicity (something uncommon during this age as the Cherbian empire had collapsed a century ago), and green military uniform.

"Excuse me—"

"I'm so sorry!—"

They started at the same time.

"Excuse me," Kiku began again, "but are you the one—"

"I am truly sorry for this but could we perhaps talk inside?" The man interrupted, pushing them both back into the library.

Kiku let himself be pushed back, confused at the situation.

"Are you not the man the Serviants are looking for?"

"Please don't tell them I'm here!" Kiku gazed at the disheveled man before him, just as he stared back. The man's eyes suddenly widened in recognition, as if he just realized he had run into him. He opened his mouth, slightly agape, before asking in a quiet voice, "Are you, perhaps, Kiku of Dextris?"

* * *

**AN: So, what did you think? Review and comment on this chapter!**

**A few quick notes that should be noted: **

**1) I plan on starting to explain people's pasts, along with a bunch of the other subplots, so hold onto your hats!**

**2) I love all of the support I've been getting through the reviews! All of you are adorably sweet! :D**

**Love you all and review!**

**-Petaldancer**


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